[WP] Alien invaders have nearly conquered the human race and all but claimed Earth for themselves. Just when the invaders think they've won, the planet rejects them as foreign entities and all living things on Earth begin to attack.

Two hundred and twelve. That's how many humans are left on Earth.

Thirty-seven years we've fought against the Unkabi, and for 37 years they've slowly but steadily whittled away our numbers.

"Today, we make our final stand! Not for our country, not for our respective Gods, but for the existence of our race!" I stopped paying attention, this pep talk was only slightly more motivating than the last hundred or so I'd heard, but in essence it was the same. Don't give up, the human race depends on it. But I knew, and everyone around me knew, we were doomed. Our last camp was surrounded, all exits blocked. 212 humans against countless thousands of Unkabi. We would fight, like we always did, and we would lose, like we always did. And this time, it would be for good. We all knew it.

Once the speech was over, the morose but determined remainder of the human race manned their respective posts.

From my foxhole on the perimeter, I looked down on the glittering expanse of the strange green lights the Unkabi used, like the field itself was glowing. In the distance I heard their bone shattering battle horn expel it's final charge. I braced myself for battle, and death.

As the mass of invaders made their final charge, I aimed down the sights of my rifle. As the front lines came into range, I began to open fire. As I sighted in on my second target, however, he fell out of sight. I started to switch targets, not sparing a moment's thought, and realized I couldn't find one. Sounds of confusion began to pierce the eerie silence.

I looked up, and saw... a miracle.

The ground opened up in giant gaping holes, swallowing hundreds of Unkabi at once. Tree roots flew out of the ground, skewering enemy troops. Some of them burst with what looked like mold, or fungus spores. Birds of prey swooped from the sky in massive hordes, enough to blot out the sun had it been up, pecking and scratching anything they could.

212 humans stood, on the front line, mouths agape, unable to comprehend what we were seeing. Finally, someone in command regained their wits and sounded the charge. And for the first time in 37 years, we attacked with hope, not desperation.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread