The domain of the kitsune was supposed to be their sanctuary, their safe place from countless creatures who'd sooner see every kitsune dead than risk a new nine-tails coming into existence, let alone the Celestial foxes who lasted 200 years more and achieved divine status.
Now the walls of that sanctuary were down. Kitsune who never fought a battle in their lives now lived in terror. For many it was their final day alive. Naturally, this included the precious kits who were not even a century old from those still learning what it could mean to one day be a man, to those in diapers. The Normal didn't care. Earth was for humanity, and anything either would serve them, or be disposed of.
And the Normal were not drunk campers in the woods who'd happened on a tori gate. They'd come equipped with defenses against typical magical tricks, their helmets to protect them from mental attacks, be they telepathic, visual, audible, or even enchanted incense. And their guns enchanted to kill their magical powerful beasts...
Kits were unceremoniously shot in their cribs (after their mothers and fathers died trying to save them). A brother and sister, both one tail kitsune who knew only the most basics of magic, ran for their lives holding their hands, they did not make it far.
For one Kitsune who had been in China once upon a time, he'd say it reminded him of the Rape of Nanking.
As for the Normals themselves.
One was thinking how he had his daughter's piano recital to go to after they were done here.
Another had his great-uncle's birthday barbecue to attend once complete here.
Another had the final episode of the reboot of his favorite childhood show to watch.
"Dang, how many of those foxes are there?"
"I figured there'd be maybe a few dozen... heh, was expecting more of a fight. They were all just hot air in the end!"
None of their families had a clue what they really did for a hobby, they thought they were pest control... which in their own minds, wasn't a lie.
One old kitsune who had seen the Rape of Nanking. Who had felt the bite of a curse Japanese blade... where he lost his leg, and most of his tails, doomed to never regrow no matter what shape or form he took.
With minimal magic and a mangled body, he'd been left to his own devices. And with magic he had, he'd combined the magical and the technological, much like the Normal had now to bring the slaughter to his people for the crime of existing.
The mines had been made back when the kitsune were still cursed to be sterile. And the kitsune had thought 'waste not, want not' like many of his kind at the time. He knew he was doomed. He had no fantasies that he would survive this day. He knew fate would only punish him even worse if he dared believed he would. But he took grand satisfaction in knowing at least he'd get to see his creation at work at last, and either these monsters would experience the fate they'd inflicted on others, or help rebuild their devastated numbers.
He planted the mines as quickly as he could, around his workshop, around the very tempting target of the beautiful palace, and the far side of the city where his people were fleeing.
The magical mines, being enchanted, unlike mines of mankind, could tell friend from foe, the mages and friends were in no danger of them.
The three Normals who'd just gun down a pair of kits, causally walked over the corpses.
Unlike in the movies, mines do not in fact go 'click' when stepped on and only go off when stepped off of, let alone have a five second delay with a obvious flashing red light and beeping noise. A flash of violet light exploded upwards, and it was indeed and explosion with the force and suddenness of any landmine.
Where the three Normal invaders had been before, where now three one tailed kitsune toddlers sucking their thumbs. Their clothes dissolved into their nappies, and any memory of their existence being anything but became faded and muddied, along with physical evidence of their former lives. Reality would naturally fill in the holes soon enough. The cubs being the least aware of their former lives. Even the old kitsune would seen forget the three kitsune before him had been anything but, the landmines detonation being his own concrete clue what they had been before. As the final trigger of the landmine, the three kitsune toddlers were teleported to a set of waiting cribs on the far side of the city away from the battle, where the kitsune would find the cubs, and memories would come of having birthed and nurtured them.
The kitsune leaned off his fake leg, preferring to stay in his quadruped form for better balance, he had no doubt the Normals and their allies would figure out what he'd done before long, figure out a countermeasure (they always did) and swiftly come to kill a crippled kitsune. He calmly awaited his fate.