[ WP ] Guns have been outlawed Worldwide because they are viewed as a cowardice form of war . Only short range weapons ( Swords , arrows , spears , etc ) are legal for countries to possess .

The lake was cast red from the sun as it fled the battlefield under the pretense of an early dusk as the wind hurriedly followed and the few fish in the lake sensed the air's anxiety, their bright chrome-blue skin illuminated crimson in the shallow water, huddling together in a tight shoal beside a calmly flowing lilly whose flesh-coloured flower was just emerging in the fledgling spring as the warmth of a battle preceded the warming of the land and almost as if the budding blossom had pushed its head from its agnate immobile walled sanctuary to see what exactly was incoming that would strike such fear in the unyielding ball of light which earlier in the flower's life had hung gleefully in the sky. 
 
 Zuri fell to earth from orbit in a golden haze and assessed the Great Plains that stretched in front of him for quite some time. The grass fell to its knees before him, bending at the root and clamouring together to stay low and grovel at the feet of the great man. He smiled at the horizon. 
 
'How's the weather, Chief?' 
 
 The voice itched in his brain. Male, American, anxious. If the air had character. 
 
'I did n't expect him to arrive so late.' 
 
 Zuri sat cross-legged by the edge of the lake and watched as the ripples reflected the dying sky across their agile bodies and broke against the unmoving sand. The guardian let it fall through his hand and watched as it entered the water and fell apart, never to be seen again. An icing of white foam dusted the shore, slowly lilting back and forth across the fragile grains. Zuri felt the water with his fingers, and swirled through it aimlessly. His mind did n't wander. 
 
'Zhao is arriving,' his operator began.'He's with six grade fours, all of them fully mature. I do n't fancy your chances, Chief. I do n't need to remind you you've lost to lesser men.' 
 
 Zuri ran his fingers across the vertical scar stretching from below his left eye, across his broad cheekbone, down to where his clean-shaven jaw ran like a horizontal barrier to the scar's continued descent. It tainted his weathered brown skin an off-white where it lay. The water from the lake, still clinging to his fingers, broke off to rest under his eye and eventually made their pilgrimage south, riding the path the scar had outlined but forming their own river until they fell from his jaw back to their source. 
 
 Zuri drew a thin and arbitrary line in the white sand. Many grains fell back in an attempt to fill the space. 
 
'No-one gets past this line.' 
 
 Zuri's voice was coarse and tired. 
 
'That line is thin and arbitrary. Do n't risk your own life for the sake of a few cities, Chief. You're our best weapon. You're our only grade five. The only grade five. We lose you, and we lose the entire Eastern seaboard. Then it's game over USA.' 
 
'I'm aware of the stakes.' 
 
'This is n't about honor, it's about survival. I wish you'd realise that.' 
 
 Zhao arrived on the horizon, a meagre black silhouette whose long black hair and white beard flew in front of him in the wind. Six other shapes extended out behind him and as one the entourage floated forwards on the breeze. Zuri stood to attention, tall, unmoving. He pinned his slate-grey hair up above him and removed his cloak. It dissolved into nothingness as it floated away skywards. 
 
'I know what we stand to win from this victory, Chief, but we have a lot more to lose. For the last time- if anything... unfavourable... occurs, you get the hell out of there. You run. All the way to London if you have to.' 
 
'No-one's running today, Johnson.' 
 
'Good luck Zuri.' 
 
 Zhao and co unsheathed their weapons and raced towards the guardian, who rushed out to meet them. The sun took one last look before it left them to their fate.
