Venetian Red, Volume 6

 

Chapter 56 Maze War

A week had passed since the skirmishes in the steppes dwindled to a tense pause, with only minor clashes between the Red Army and the true horde. In the command center, Zion leaned over a map, a red general standing by his side.

“Alam has released the two Blood Khaganate generals, Qilong and Inat. They’re ready to serve again,” the general announced, a hint of triumph in his voice.

Zion's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “That’s good news. Let them serve with honor. They’ve proven themselves in battle before.”

He glanced at the map again, tracing the lines of conflict. “So, the war in the steppes has quieted. Only small skirmishes remain. Does this mean the truce is holding?”

“Our intel reports no major movements from the enemy. They seem to be digging in,” the general replied, a note of caution in his tone.

“Good. A truce holding is promising. But we must keep a vigilant watch on their movements. Let’s not get complacent,” Zion warned, his brow furrowing.

The red general cleared his throat. “Our tank division has reached the northern lands, bypassing the northern Altai. We now surround the stronghold on two fronts.”

Zion smiled, pride swelling in his chest. “Excellent progress. Surrounding the stronghold will cut off their supply routes and weaken their position. We can’t let them regroup.”

“Sir, will you attack first?” the general asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

“Yes, it’s time to strike. The peace talks have run their course. The enemy is fortified, and we’ll take advantage of that. A surprise attack is in order,” Zion declared, resolve dripping from his words.

 

In the frosty embrace of the wintery north, Barnaul had transformed into a ghost town, its once-bustling streets now echoing with the whispers of the wind. The railway, a lifeline of supplies, had been secured, but the city itself was as empty as a politician's promises. Both soldiers and civilians had skedaddled westward

 

As the soldiers adapted to the harsh conditions—donning layers of wool and fur like fashion-forward yeti—their spirits were high, fueled by the thrill of impending battle, Zion cautioned against underestimating the enemy

 

The upcoming attack on the Altai region loomed like a snowstorm on the horizon, promising to be as challenging as trying to assemble IKEA furniture without the instructions. The terrain was a maze of rivers and ridges, a veritable obstacle course designed by a mischievous architect.

 

but Zion remained confident in their numerical and firepower advantage, believing they could break through the enemy lines.

 

Days later, as the middle and northern armies advanced toward the Altai Mountains, the red general reported, “We’re advancing quickly. No traps, no mines, and the bridges remain intact.”

“Unusual,” Zion remarked, furrowing his brow. “A defensive line typically has traps and mines. They’re likely preparing for something unexpected. We must remain cautious.”

Twelve hours later, the red general reported again, “Our vanguard has reached Gorno-Altaysk. The area is secure, but there’s still no sign of the enemy or civilians.”

“That’s peculiar,” Zion said thoughtfully. “Is there any sign of life?”

“Just wildlife. We’ve seen some eagles and reindeer,” the general replied.

“Okay, so the city is devoid of life. Is there any sign of destruction?” Zion pressed.

“None, sir. The buildings are intact, and we haven’t found any traps or mines,” the general answered.

“It seems the enemy has entirely evacuated. We must proceed carefully while scouting the area. They might be trying to lure us into a trap,” Zion cautioned.

 

Three days later, the red general reported, “We’ve secured the eastern side of the Altai Mountains with minimal losses, but still no sign of the enemy or civilians.”

“Still the same,” Zion mused, nodding. “This is highly unusual. Any signs of wildlife?”

“Occasionally, we see birds and reindeer,” the general replied.

“Okay, so you’re seeing birds and reindeer occasionally. It’s possible the enemy retreated to a more hidden area. Let’s proceed with caution. We must take advantage of this opportunity,” Zion ordered.

Just then, a red officer interrupted. “Sir, we’ve received a transmission from Xian. Alam wants to talk.”

“Let’s see what he has to say. Put him on screen,” Zion replied, intrigued.

On the monitor, Alam appeared, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey, looks like you broke the truce. Don’t you pity your men? It’s freezing out here.”

Zion chuckled. “Alam, you broke the truce first. I’ve kept my forces in check despite your provocations. But let’s talk without pretense. Are you willing to surrender your land?”

“Well, everyone knows you stepped onto my land first. It seems you really like the Altai region. Planning a vacation there next year?” Alam teased.

Zion laughed. “You have a point. I won’t just let you keep it. The Altai is valuable for its resources. I will take it, one way or another.”

“Okay, go ahead and take the Altai region. I’ll let you march into Europe,” Alam replied, a mocking tone creeping into his voice.

Zion smiled slyly. “Finally, you admit defeat. Let’s discuss the terms of your surrender.”

“I didn’t say I’m surrendering. I’m just giving you the Altai because you seem to want it,” Alam countered.

“No, we’re not equal. I have more men and resources,” Zion replied confidently. “If you want peace, surrender now. Otherwise, I’ll keep pushing forward.”

“I can’t do that,” Alam said, a light chuckle escaping him.

“Then let the war continue. We will not stop until you surrender,” Zion warned. “We’ll take every inch of your territory. If you want peace, surrender. Otherwise, prepare for a long conflict.”

“History will remember you as the aggressor. The end-of-year conference won’t like that,” Alam shot back.

“Let history remember who the aggressor is. But I will be the victor, not you,” Zion replied, unwavering. “You’ll become a villain in history textbooks.”

“Do you know how a mouse trap works?” Alam asked suddenly.

“Yes, it uses bait to lure the mouse in. When it touches the trigger, the trap snaps shut,” Zion answered, curiosity piqued.

“Oh spicy. I wonder what food I’ll use to bait you,” Alam said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Mouse, you say? That’s amusing. What type of food will you give me next?” Zion asked, chuckling.

“I don’t know… perhaps Russia?” Alam suggested, his tone playful.

“Russia? That’s quite a piece of cheese to bait me. I wonder if it’ll be enough,” Zion replied, smirking.

“Please, go march to Russia and ignore me,” Alam winked.

“I see you’re trying to trick me. You want me to march to Russia while you plan a surprise attack. But I’m not that easily fooled,” Zion said, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I don’t have any soldiers left to mount a proper assault, and there are no tributes from civilians in winter. I’m a benevolent leader,” Alam said, feigning innocence.

“A benevolent leader? Where did your soldiers go? Did they just vanish?” Zion laughed.

“I don’t know. Maybe they went on a picnic or something,” Alam replied with a smirk.

“Picnic in the middle of winter? That’s quite a coincidence,” Zion chuckled.

“Human beings are weird sometimes,” Alam shrugged.

Zion laughed, shaking his head. “Indeed, they are.”

soon the call is ended. alam then look at the map on screen. a grin across his face. the mouse already take the bite. the mountain terrains while make a perfect maze, now he set up the cage. and the spear.

 

As the harsh November chill settled over the Altai Mountains, Zion's forces cautiously advanced. Zion's forces tiptoed forward, their boots crunching on the snow like a herd of clumsy penguins. The snow-blanketed landscape, once a silent battlefield, now held an eerie quiet. The absence of enemy activity, once reassuring, now bred unease. The commander, sensing a growing threat, urged his troops to remain vigilant.

Hazel, shared her concerns, noting the enemy's increasingly unpredictable tactics. The dwindling supply lines of the True Horde hinted at desperation, a dangerous factor in warfare. As they secured Gorno-Altaysk, the lack of enemy presence deepened the mystery. The commander, determined to seize the initiative, planned a strategic encirclement. Hazel, volunteering to lead the defensive guard, prepared for potential ambushes. The soldiers, tense and ready, awaited the enemy's next move, their fate hanging in the balance of this silent war. They stood like statues, each one a mix of nerves and excitement, waiting for the moment when the snow would explode into action.

hours crept by, the tension thickening as impatience swelled among the troops. All they wanted was to see the enemy and unleash their firepower, but the stillness of the snowy landscape felt ominous. The sun began to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the ground.

“Hey look, the moon is clear,” Hazel remarked, breaking the silence as he stepped outside, wrapping herself in a blanket.

Yu, who had been resting inside the tank, opened her eyes and glanced up at the sky, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s beautiful! No storms tonight—maybe we’ll have a peaceful evening.”

“Yeah,” Hazel replied, settling down beside her.

As they enjoyed the moment, the soft strumming of a guitar floated through the air, played by a nearby soldier. The melody was soothing, a welcome distraction from the tension that gripped the camp. Yu felt a sense of peace wash over her, the warmth inside the tank mingling with the calming music.

Suddenly, a radio call crackled to life, interrupting the tranquility. “Tomorrow, we will attempt to break through from the south to escape the Altai region,” Hazel relayed,

Yu listened intently, knowing that the Altai region was notorious for its challenges. She hoped they could escape without losing anyone.

After the call, a silence settled over the soldiers, each lost in their thoughts as the reality of the impending battle loomed.

 

The next morning, Hazel addressed her troops with a firm voice. “Alright, the road ahead isn’t straight or narrow. We’ll face valleys perfect for enemy ambushes. Cohesion is key to our survival.”

Yu focused intently, determined to follow his orders to ensure everyone’s safety. “We can’t use smoke screens; the line behind us won’t navigate well. Does anyone have ideas?”

As the silence stretched, Yu hesitated but finally spoke up, her voice steady. “If we can’t use a large number of soldiers in open terrain, we should send a small unit of elite soldiers to cut off the enemy from their rear. While they engage, the main force can move forward. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, that’s a solid idea,” Hazel agreed, relieved. “Some of our soldiers have modified legs—they’ll move faster through this terrain.”

“That’s smart,” Yu said, feeling a rush of confidence. “We need to pick the most capable soldiers for this operation.”

“Let’s get moving then. My tank will be second in line. Fortunately, the enemy doesn’t have proper anti-tank weapons yet,” Hazel said,

As they advanced, the terrain grew ever more challenging. “So far, so good. About 70 kilometers left before we reach General Sima’s army,” Hazel remarked.

The march continued without incident until they encountered a large boulder blocking the road. “Damn it! We can’t waste time moving it with a bulldozer. Just shoot it to pieces with our cannon,” Hazel ordered. “Hopefully, that will do the trick.”

The crew readied their cannons, and with a loud boom, the first shot echoed across the mountains. Dust and debris exploded into the air as the boulder shattered. However, the road remained cluttered with rubble.

“Damn. That’ll alert the enemy. Stay focused,” Hazel said, the tension creeping back in.

After nearly two hours of waiting for the dust to settle, the atmosphere was thick with impatience. Then, just as the sun began its descent, a distant rumble of explosions and gunfire erupted from the south, and the soldiers tensed.

“It must be General Sima’s army clashing with the enemy. We need to move fast to join the attack,” Hazel commanded, urgency seeping into his voice.

The soldiers exchanged serious glances, knowing they had to act quickly. “We can’t let the enemy surround General Sima’s forces,” Hazel warned. “Let’s go!”

 

As Zion’s forces cautiously advanced into the Altai, the silence continued. The lack of resistance was unsettling. Suddenly, the ground began to tremble. From the surrounding heights, rocks and debris rained down from a landslide,

Then, from hidden positions, True Horde soldiers emerged, armed with anti-tank weapons. , a hail of arrows rained down from the sky, exploding near them.The ambush was sprung. The maze of the Altai had become a trap.

News of the disastrous ambush reached Zion. His face darkened with fury. The truce had been a ruse. He had walked straight into Alam’s trap.

 “Take cover!” Hazel shouted, diving to the ground.

The arrows detonated with a deafening roar, sending shrapnel flying. Soldiers scrambled for safety, their hearts racing as they realized they’d fallen into a trap.

“Damn it! A landslide blocked our road, and now this?” Hazel growled, frustration boiling over.

“Sir, we can’t break through without heavy equipment,” a soldier reported urgently.

“Can we use explosives to clear the path?” another suggested.

“I’m afraid shooting is just a waste of ammo. It’s like imagining two towers collapsing on the road. But I’ll give it a shot,” Hazel replied,

“Alright, all tank crews, aim at the road. Fire on the landslide! Two shots each!” Hazel ordered.

The tanks fired in unison, their cannons echoing as they blasted the blockage. As the dust settled, they found the road still partially obstructed, but the way was clearer.

“Damn, that’ll alert the enemy. Stay alert,” Hazel reminded them, his heart pounding from both the adrenaline and lack of sleep.

“Why so gloomy, everyone? It’s snowy, not raining blood! Come on, let’s sing!” she added, trying to lighten the mood.

The soldiers chuckled, their spirits lifting as they prepared for the fight ahead, ready to face whatever dangers lay in wait.

“A landslide blocks our path,” Hazel reported to HQ. “Explosives are insufficient. We need heavy equipment.” “Heavy equipment is en route,” HQ replied. “ETA one hour. Hold your position.”

“Copy that,” Hazel responded, relief washing over him. They just needed to hold out a little longer.

“Everyone, cut down the trees and build a barricade to defend our tank tracks. We’ll dig in until the southern army arrives with heavy equipment,” she ordered.

The soldiers sprang into action, quickly felling trees and constructing a barricade around the tank tracks. They worked with urgency, knowing the importance of fortifying their position against potential enemy attacks.

With weapons at the ready, the soldiers prepared to defend their newfound stronghold. They climbed the steep peak, moving cautiously to avoid falling into the abyss below. The climb was grueling, but courage propelled them upward.

As they reached the summit, True Horde soldiers opened fire. Bullets whizzed past, and chaos erupted as both sides exchanged shots at close range.

“Take cover!” the commander shouted, quickly positioning his troops to return fire. The gunfight was intense, each side determined to hold their ground amidst the cacophony of battle.

As the afternoon wore on, with no clear winner in sight, Hazel ordered a retreat down the mountain. “We can’t gain victory fighting in close quarters. Let’s regroup,” he commanded, and the soldiers descended in an organized manner, discipline guiding their movements.

 

Later, as night fell, the command received word to deploy the Strato Cannon to clear the road. “What the hell is a Strato Cannon?” Hazel muttered, bewildered.

The Strato Cannon, a massive piece of artillery, was aimed at the road ahead. its the cordinate is set.

“Alright, everyone, move away from the perimeter and cover your ears!” Hazel ordered as the radio crackled to life.

“3… 2… 1… Fire!” came the command.

A moment passed, like nothing happend. the cannon is fired, its was so distant from hazel location. probably take a minutes before hit the target. the soldier wait impatiently. while their gaze fixed on the massive rock and dirt in road a head. until finnaly, the ground shook violently as the cannon mution hit the ground, sending shockwaves through the area. The explosion was deafening, debris flying everywhere, and the landslide was obliterated in an impressive display of power.

“Oh my God! What the heck was that? It’s not a nuke, but damn!” Hazel exclaimed, popping out of the tank to assess the damage.

The area was littered with dirt and stones, remnants of the explosive force. The mountain peak was clear now, a testament to the Strato Cannon’s might.

“Alright, brace yourselves, dogs! Let’s move south!” Hazel shouted, The order was met with enthusiasm as the tanks rolled out, the troops marching with newfound vigor. They were ready to face whatever lay ahead, the Buffalo tanks leading the charge.

After passing the crater, the soldiers were greeted by the sight of the endless steppe stretching out before them.

“We’re free now!” Hazel declared, exhilaration coursing through her.

sHe turned to Yu, playfully punching her shoulder. “We somehow survived!”

Yu was taken by surprise, her initial shock melting into a smile. “We did it, Hazel! We actually made it out of that hellhole!”

“Sure did, Orange Hair. Sure did,” Hazel chuckled,

Cheers erupted from the soldiers, the tension of battle giving way to camaraderie as they clapped each other on the back and shared tales of narrow escapes. But the celebration was short-lived; the steppe was unforgiving. The wind howled across the plains, whipping up clouds of dust that stung their eyes.

“We can’t stay here,” Hazel said firmly. “We need to reach General Sima’s army before nightfall. They’re our only hope.”

 

Chapter 57 Break through

The artillery just wouldn't quit. Thump-thump-thump, the ground kept shaking. and sky is sound like firework party but deadly.  Not exactly the Christmas carols he remembered. It was Christmas Eve, by the way. Alexander, one of the True Horde guys, watched a tree get turned into splinters. He ducked back into his trench, took a deep breath, and checked his rifle. Yep, still frozen. He poked at the little smiley face he'd carved into the ice stuck on the magazine. At least that was festive.

Then, between the thumps, Seri yelled. He’d been bringing supplies and caught some shrapnel. They hauled him into the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding. Seri was whispering, “Morphine… ketamine… anything…” He was hurting bad. They didn’t have anything for him, though. Just some bandages and empty promises.

Around 1 AM, but the temperature is warm. its because intensity of the artillery battle.

the order came to evacuate Seri. The task was daunting: carrying him on a cloth stretcher by hand, at night, with only one night-vision device. The man at the front, carrying the stretcher, was the only one who could see.

 They carried him through the trenches and into a shattered treeline leading west, a dangerous route even at night due to the ever-present threat of drones directing artillery or dropping grenades.

They were spotted. Mortars began raining down, forcing them to take cover between two large logs. Seri lay between the logs, the rest of the group pressed against them on their stomachs. It was 2 AM. Fear gripped Alexander. It was one of his first combat evacuations, and he had seen enough videos on vr to know the potential dangers.

Of course, they got spotted. Mortars started raining down. They dove between two huge logs, with Seri stuck in the middle. The next hour was a nightmare. Alexander had seen the VR training, knew what a close call looked like. And these were way too close. One explosion lit up the whole area like a messed-up Christmas light show.

He saw the trees, all ripped up and splintered. Then it was dark again, with his ears ringing. He felt the heat from another blast, the snow around him hissing as it melted.

When the mortars finally stopped, they kept going, Seri’s groans pushing them on. They finally made it to the evac point. A truck showed up, they loaded Seri in, and a medic gave them a quick “Thanks, have a good Christmas.” Alexander had totally spaced that it was Christmas. It sure didn't feel like it. No family, no hot food, no presents. Just a wounded guy, his blood on the floor of their dugout. They had carried him one and a half to two kilometers through a battlefield in pitch darkness.

As they stealthily made their way back to their position, around 6 AM, mortars began falling again. Back in the dugout, Alexander quickly became intensely cold. He had been moving and exerting himself all night; his clothes were damp with sweat. He sat shivering, trying to stay warm as artillery and mortars impacted seemingly at random around them. By this point, he was too tired, too wet, too cold, and too depressed to care much about what happened to him.

It was now Christmas morning, the sun rising and artillery stupid battle is stop. Alexander tried to find something to be grateful for, recalling his father’s words: the only thing that can motivate a man is himself. The artillery fire had stopped. He walked into the trench walkway and saw the frost on the branches, the ground, the frozen shovels, the boxes. Everything looked different in the early morning light, the kind that casts a slightly orange hue.

In that moment, he felt a profound sense of gratitude for being alive, that his wife and family were safe. He was grateful that Seri had been evacuated. He began to see things differently. He stopped feeling sorry for himself; it could have been worse. This was war; his corpse could be frozen in a treeline, unattended until spring. But he was alive, and his family was alive and safe.

While Alexander found a fragile peace in the quiet dawn, just a few kilometers away, the war raged on with undiminished ferocity. the Red Army faced a formidable enemy trench, its occupants braced for a long battle. The enemy had assembled a large force complemented by heavy artillery, but nothing could withstand the might of the Red Army. With quick maneuvers and superior firepower, they obliterated the enemy stronghold in no time.

 

“Damn,” Hazel muttered, scanning the aftermath as they passed the trench. “Looks like the south army stalled. Just look at all this carnage.”

 

The sight was grim. Bodies of fallen soldiers, both friend and foe, mixed with the wreckage of war, painted a stark picture of the battle's savagery. Blood stained the snow,

 

Suddenly, the radio crackled to life. “Command here! General Sima's base in Banyan -Ölgii is about to be overrun by enemy tanks! Move fast and assist them!”

 

Hazel’s heart raced. “Understood! Let’s move out!” she shouted, urgency fueling his words. They accelerated, racing against time to reach the beleaguered general.

 

As they advanced, the base came into view, surrounded by enemy tanks. “Damn it, they’ve taken the base! Form a line! Fire on those enemy tanks!” Hazel commanded, determination etched on his face.

 

The troops quickly took position, but just as they prepared to engage, a thunderous explosion echoed through the air. The Strato Cannon had fired, obliterating the base and killing everyone within its walls indiscriminately.

 

The Red Army tanks halted, stunned by the sheer destruction. think about pile of ash in middle of white room

 

“Someone tell me—did you blow the base?” Hazel ask nearby khagan officer,

 

one bald man with dark grab lowered his binocular and look at her feature first before speak

 

“Yes, we blew the base. The general must be dead. The enemy was too strong, and we were about to lose it anyway,” came the grim response.

 

Hazel swallowed hard, letting out a breath. “Understood.”, still in shock at the devastation.

 

As if on cue, reinforcements from General Sima’s division arrived on foot, breathless and tense. “Oh no, we’re late!” one soldier exclaimed.

 

“Tell me what happened,” Hazel urged.

 

“General Sima thought the True Horde tanks would encircle you, so he sent us to support. But they attacked straight at the base instead,” the soldier explained, urgency lacing his words.

 

“A bad gambit,” Hazel murmured, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

 

sHe climbed back into the tank, the cramped space feeling heavier with each passing moment. she hugged Yu tightly, both of them silently processing the situation.

 

“What do you feel?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

 

Yu sat in the tank, staring into the dark night outside. “I’m sad. The base is destroyed, and General Sima is dead. It feels like it’s all my fault.”

 

“Oh, are you self-blaming?” Hazel replied, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t blame you or myself. I blame our superiors.”

 

Yu sighed, looking back at him. “I just wish I could’ve done something.”

 

“Hey, don’t worry. We’ll get through this,” Hazel reassured her, rubbing her shoulder.

 

Later that night, nestled inside the belly of a battered tank, Hazel popped her head out. “Hey, Patrick! You still alive?”

Patrick turned, his eyes dull, exhaustion etched across his face. “Why the hell am I still alive?” he muttered to himself, contemplating the absurdity of their situation. General Sima was gone, the chaos was overwhelming, and all he could do was sit and stare at the ruins of their hopes.

“I’m the new commander,” Hazel announced, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. “As the highest-ranking officer, this company will follow me.”

Patrick blinked at her, still processing the day’s events. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he thought, but the weariness in his bones was overwhelming.

“Alright, gentlemen and hardened devildogs,” Hazel continued, rallying the troops with a spark of determination. “We need to head back to the ruins of the base, set up a perimeter, and treat our wounded.”

Nods of agreement spread through the group, though they looked like the living dead, shuffling toward the ruins of their former stronghold.

As they set up camp amidst the debris, Hazel took a moment to check on Yu, who sat quietly on a nearby tank, her gaze lost in the horizon. “Are you okay?”s he asked gently.

Yu didn’t reply; her sad, empty eyes spoke volumes. It was her first encounter with death so close to home, and the weight of it pressed heavily on her heart.

“Alright, at least keep pushing the pedal,” Hazel urged, trying to break the tension.

The next morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Hazel gathered the remaining soldiers. “Alright, let’s reorganize. We need a headcount and a rundown of our equipment before we move on.”

The atmosphere was thick with unease, but they complied, counting soldiers and checking the meager arsenal left at their disposal. “121 soldiers, but only 82 can fight,” one soldier reported, the grim statistics hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

“Looks like our only vehicle is our tank,” Hazel mused, scratching his head. “We’ll need to make a makeshift platform to carry the wounded. We’re abandoning the artillery; it’s just too risky.”

They moved through the snowy expanse, the chill biting at their exposed skin as they approached the city—a ghost town, abandoned and eerily silent. The Red Army entered cautiously, their senses heightened, each sound echoing like a warning bell.

“Damn... send two squads of twelve to secure this city, from the outside to the inside,” Hazel commanded.

As the soldiers fanned out, they began the meticulous process of fortifying their new position. They barricaded doors, sealed windows, and prepared traps, transforming the shattered remnants of the city into a makeshift fortress.

“Nearest friendly forces are just a few kilometers away,” Hazel said, glancing around at the fortified buildings. “It looks like we’re in for a long wait until they arrive.”

With a heavy heart and a mind still reeling from the chaos of the previous day, the Red Army settled into their new reality—a band of soldiers bound not just by duty, but by shared loss, determination, and an unyielding resolve to survive against the odds.

 

On December 28th, two platoons arrived, bringing with them the Stride Tank – a lighter, faster vehicle designed for reconnaissance and quick strikes.

A blue-haired soldier dismounted, approaching Hazel with a grin. “Greetings, Commander! Tetsuya at your service. This baby can hit 105 km/h on flat ground. Smoother than a baby’s bottom!”

Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Speed is good. What about armor?”

“Agility is its armor,” Tetsuya replied. “It can take standard fire, but heavy artillery is a different story. We’ll need to be smart about how we use it.”

“Agreed,” Hazel said. “We can use it to counter hit-and-run tactics.”

“Exactly. But we need to be wary of enemy reinforcements,” Tetsuya warned.

“We wiped out their tank division a few days ago,” Hazel said skeptically.

“They’re resourceful,” Tetsuya countered. “We can’t underestimate them.”

As the sun set on December 29th, the Red Army garrison found a temporary respite. The mood was somber, but the arrival of the Stride Tanks offered a glimmer of hope. They knew the fight for the Altai was far from over. The icy winds whipped across the Altai Mountains, carrying snow and the faint scent of oil, the very resource that had ignited this bitter war between the Red Army and the True Horde

Chapter 58 Beyond the sea

While Alam and Zion were busy with their little game of cat and mouse, Hazel and Panji were fighting for survival in a brutal winter war on the other side of the world. Meanwhile, near the Gulf of Mexico, a group with two off-road vehicles was kicking up dust in a barren desert. They rolled into a ghost town near a port and piled out. Their gear was a real mix—everything from gas masks to a guy decked out in a bright blue Napoleonic-era getup.

This "Napoleon," who was actually a guy named Baker, immediately started checking every corner of the street with his bolt-action rifle. A woman named Sarah, wearing a black vest and sporting a scar on her cheek, casually leaned against one of the vehicles, an anti-material rifle—a huge sniper rifle with a massive barrel—resting easily in her hands. She was clearly strong, thanks to some kind of genetic mutation. “Relax, Baker,” she said, glancing at the small, infected robot she held in her palm. "Nobody's here."

Baker, still on edge, rubbed his yellow beard. "I know, but just in case." He had a thermal imaging scope attached to his rifle.

A short-haired man in military pants, Vance, checked his watch and fidgeted with the SMG in his hands. “When’s La Buse’s escort arriving?” he muttered. “They’re late… typical pirates.”

Sarah’s expression turned serious. “What if they ditch us?”

Baker shrugged, resting his rifle on his shoulder. “Then they don’t get the money, or our trust.”

They headed over to an old bank. Baker, a nostalgic glint in his eye, remarked, "This place used to belong to the Russian mafia, back before the war. They even tried to switch our currency to some gold-backed credit system."

Inside, stacks of old bills lay piled high, four or five stacks at least. Sarah picked up a handful, shaking her head. "It's crazy to think this used to be worth something. Now it's just…nothing."

Baker chuckled. "Yeah, they used to buy up palaces and everything. But in the end, they didn't even get to enjoy it. They're all dust now."

Sarah dropped the bills like they were hot. "They bought the whole bank?"

Baker ran a hand through his hair. "Not just banks. Shops, hotels… They weren't just gangsters with guns, they were businessmen too."

Vance’s eyes darted around the room. "Enough with the history lesson. We’ve got company. Let's fortify this place. Move it!"

They scrambled to set up defenses. A dusty old table became cover, and they rigged a tripwire with a grenade at the main entrance.

While they waited, Sarah took to the rooftop, finding a good vantage point. But her mind was still stuck on the whole mobster thing. “But… how did people from Russia even end up all the way over here in America?” she wondered aloud.

Baker rolled his eyes, his voice crackling through the radio. "People traveled a lot back then. Long story short, they were…armed traffickers, agents, something like that. Now keep the radio chatter to a minimum, Sarah."

They waited, the ghost town eerily quiet. Then, a scout’s voice broke the silence. "Armed convoy, twelve o'clock!"

vance then reply “they pirate or not?”

The scout sounded annoyed. “how i suppose to know?, they are 3 trucks. these guys is armed to the teeth”

Sarah, on the rooftop, quickly scans the trucks in the distance. She squints through her scope as she tries to get a better look at the vehicles.

 

"Armed to the teeth, huh? That doesn't sound like typical pirate behavior. They usually prefer stealth and speed over brute force."

vance shake his head “they must zion contractor who chasing us, we must hold position until la buse arrive”

all group member tense, then 3 truck is stop just in outskirt of the town. then they release their drone for their eyes. baker and sarah then quickly shot the drone with ease, “good shot!” vance praise.

then people on trucks start dismount. they are wear a black fullface helmet. their insignia is red color. they are the red nation army.

then they move in file. a dozens soldier surround the town. and move slowly with their rifle ready to shot.

sarah who observe their movement with her insect robot, then pick them off one by one. one of soldier trying cover on the walls. but sarah rifle able to penetrate both the wall and their armor.

Baker and the others tried to flank them, hit 'em from the side, but they were outnumbered. The ghost town turned into a straight-up firefight. They started falling back to the fortified bank, some red soldier trigger the traps. and explosion erupted. but that not enough to stop them. their armor is strong enough to stop the shrapnell.

baker then bark to sarah “its look like only your rifle who can stop them”

sarah then reload her rifle. while take cover “yeah.. but im low ammo”

baker then turn to vance who check his ammo too “any briliant idea again chief?”

Vance, his face grim, turned to Baker. “Just aim for their visors. Crack ‘em, and they’re blind.”

Baker smirked, adjusting his grip. “Easier said than done, especially when they’ve got the better hardware.”

Vance reloaded, a quick glance at his watch. “Damn it… where is he?”

Sarah scanned the advancing soldiers, her brow furrowed, mentally counting heads. A knot tightened in her stomach. Too many. Way too many. She checked her magazine; it was empty. “We’re outnumbered, and I’m down to my last few,” she muttered through gritted teeth, the empty magazine a cold weight in her hand.

Then, as if a switch had flipped, the gunfire stopped. The Red Nation soldiers cautiously entered the bank, spreading out, searching. But the group had vanished.

More soldiers poured into the bank, heading for the stairs to secure the second floor. That’s when Vance yelled, “Now!” A cascade of old bills, packed into large boxes, rained down on the first floor, the air instantly thick with the pungent smell of gasoline. The room was now a chaotic mess of paper money.

The soldiers were momentarily stunned, then opened fire on the second floor. “Think some paper’s gonna stop us, fools? Go die!” one snarled between shots.

Vance ducked behind the second-floor railing. “Crap. The money’s not lighting,” he muttered, hoping the stray bullets would do the trick.

Baker held up a battered old lighter. “This will.” He flicked the wheel, the flame catching, and tossed it down onto the money-strewn floor. The gasoline ignited with a whoosh, turning the room into an inferno. Smoke billowed upwards, choking the air.

The group, already on the bank’s roof, clipped onto a zipline strung to a neighboring building. The smoke provided a perfect screen. Baker stayed behind, laying down covering fire through the thick smoke, his thermal scope cutting through the haze.

Once everyone else was across, Sarah yelled, “"Hurry up, Baker!" she calls out, anxiously looking back at him.!”

Baker jumped onto the zipline, but a soldier he’d shot at earlier had recovered and opened fire. A bullet grazed Baker’s shoulder, the sudden jolt sending him tumbling downwards. He landed with a bone-jarring thud in a rusty dumpster, a sharp pain shooting up his back. “Aghhh!” he groaned.

Just then, Vance’s intercom crackled to life. It was La Buse’s submarine, already near the docks, ready for extraction.

Sarah looked down at Baker, sprawled in the dumpster. “We can’t leave him!”

Vance gritted his teeth, watching the soldiers emerge from the bank, guns raised, firing towards their position.

they trying to pick up baker. from street fight. but its too hard. bullet are everywhere.

Bullets whizzed past Sarah’s ears, kicking up dust from the cracked pavement. “Gotta get to Baker,” she gasped, ducking behind a crumbling wall. He was down, somewhere in that crossfire, and leaving him wasn’t an option. She risked a peek, scanning the chaotic scene. Gunfire echoed off the buildings, explosions rocked the ground – it was a mess.

Suddenly, Vance’s comm crackled to life, a tinny burst of J-Pop blasting in the background. “Took you long enough, buddy,” a voice drawled – La Buse.

“We’re pinned down!” Vance gritted out.

Inside his dimly lit submarine, La Buse spun in his chair, nodding to his crew. Back on the surface, the situation was going south fast. They were bogged down trying to reach Baker, surrounded again. Both sides were running low on ammo.

Desperate, the group holed up in a nearby apartment complex started scavenging. Frying pans, random bits of junk – anything they could throw or use as a makeshift weapon.Sarah, frustrated with their lack of weapons, grabbed a frying pan and held it tightly in her hand.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered. "We're fighting off an army with kitchen equipment."

meanwhile enemy start become bolder seeing the group start running out their ammunation. they using dumpster for moving closer to the apartment building. including dumpster which baker are fall into. they unaware baker just laying there unconscious

"Damnit, they're getting closer," Sarah said, her grip tightening on the frying pan. "We need to think of something quick."

but then a missile from sky hit most of soldier. its was la buse missile, they shot a small missile from their submarine, its was danger close, but the missile accuration is extremely precise, hit them into piece. the soldier then go scattered from the missile impact. vance then quickly use this to pick up baker. amids the barrage of missile "we got it!. now go to dock" vance said with heavy breath while he take cover inside the building

Sarah’s eyes widened as the missile struck. This was their chance. “Move!” she yelled, sprinting after Vance, the others close behind. Smoke and dust choked the air, but they pushed on, desperate to reach the waiting submarine.

Two small, heavily armed boats waited for them at the crumbling docks. “Quick!” a pirate barked, spraying a hail of bullets towards the remaining enemy soldiers, pinning them down. They scrambled into the boats, engines roaring to life.

The group spotted the pirate boats waiting at the port and picked up their pace. With the enemy hot on their heels, they knew they had no time to waste.

"Hurry!" Sarah yelled, pushing herself to run faster. They were almost there.

the pirate start spray and pray at soldier direction. their bullet smash at cretes and cargo. the soldier then forced to pinned down. soon. the group manage to get the small boat. all alive. they then go to the sea

Sarah collapsed onto the small boat, her body soaked in sweat and her breath coming in short gasps. She looked back at the port they'd just escaped from, now overrun with enemy soldiers.

 

"We made it," she murmured, taking a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart. "We actually made it..."

vance then throw away his wooden rolling pin from his hip to the sea. he take a breath. while put baker "yeah.. that is near miss"

Sarah let out a shaky laugh, still high on adrenaline.

"Just 'near miss'?" she replied, "More like a narrow escape. If it weren't for those pirates, I don't know what would've happened."

 

then one of pirate grin while his hand on the boat driver wheel "do its make us be your savior then? give us kiss"

Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn't help but crack a small smile. She glanced at Vance and then back at the pirate.

"Oh, so now you want a reward for saving us?" she replied, feigning annoyance.

the pirate continue to grin. showing his gold teeth "3d woman is sometimes better"

Sarah chuckled at the pirate's comment, then playfully shot back,

 

"Oh please, you're just after free entertainment, aren't you?"

after that jarring flirting attempt. they arrive on the submarine who popping out to the surface., the small boat then dock at top of the submarine flat deck. then they are flattening the small boat, and just roll it. and store it on surprisingly a small box like,

Once onboard the submarine, Sarah marveled at the small boat storage. "How do they fit all these things in such a tiny space?" she wondered aloud. As they were led inside, she couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer size and complexity of the vessel.

when at inside the submarine. they start diving away. baker and other wounded crew are in med room. while vance and sarah are in control room . with anime background music, and some monitor show a anime girl dancing.. La Buse then appeared, his grin wide, and greeted them.

vance now nod at la buse. man with blonde long hair tied in back. on his cloak there is some random kanji appear "so.. here is what you want" vance then give the pirate with box of full data chips " you will give us ride to horn africa like you promise before...dont you? “ vance said with hint of uncertainty on his voice, he know deal with pirates will often messy

La Buse let out a hearty laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Don't worry, my friend. We're pirates, not liars. We'll take you to Horn Africa, just as promised."

He took the box of data chips and flicked through them, his expression shifting to one of curiosity

La Buse's eyebrows raised in interest. "The memories of the deceased, you say? You have my attention."

He leaned casually against the wall, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know, I've seen a lot of strange things during my time at sea. But memories, stolen and stored on data chips? Now that's unusual even for a pirate like me."

vance nodded “i see, in sort. they are .. a little film of important moment of person. that why its very valuable piece of information.. "vance pause" do that enough for payment?

La Buse's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with greed. He twirled the box of data chips in his hand as he spoke.

 

"Important moments...filmed and stored on these little chips. Not just memories, but the essence of a person's life."

 

He leaned closer to Vance, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Payment? My friend, you've just given us something truly priceless. A glimpse into the lives of those who have passed on. That's more than enough for our services."

 then in separate room cabin., couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical. She trusted Vance and Baker, but La Buse seemed a bit shady.

 

"Can we really trust him?" she whispered to Vance, her eyes darting skeptically towards the pirate captain.

"we already on their submarine. die is cast" vance sigh

Sarah nodded reluctantly, her arms crossed and her foot tapping anxiously. "I guess you have a point," she admitted. "It's too late to back out now. We'll just have to hope the pirates keep their word."

Chapter 59 Shadows of the Past

then at horn of africa. border pink and black nation. its was hub of trade, lot of ware come and go. but along the way the other coastal settlements is empty, have yielded evidence of past urban centers and trade activity.its because some port after enviroment catastrophe are experienced siltation of the harbor,

here a harbor gradually fills up with sediment, primarily silt (fine sand, clay, and other fine particles). This buildup can significantly reduce the harbor's depth and usability over time. and when trade route is changed because rise of fall nations over the world.  pink nation build new city port. named Adulis.

As Vance, Sarah, Baker, and the others stepped onto the shore, while old buildings is buried on sands. one of pirate offered a final, unsettling grin. "Adulis awaits. May your fortunes be… kinder than some I've seen." With that cryptic farewell, the pirate ship reversed course, leaving the group stranded on the edge of a world they barely understood. Adulis shimmered in the distance…

 

"This is it," she murmured. "The heart of Pink Nation. What do you think our chances are of getting through?"

vance look at his watch "we must find my associated somewhere in adulis. he will provide us a place for lay low"

Sarah nodded, her eyes scanning the city for any signs of the associated.

"Alright, then let's get moving," she said, a hint of determination in her voice. "Time's a-wasting and the longer we stand here, the more likely we are to be spotted."

"yeah, baker are do your back is fine man? "vance glance at baker

Baker chuckled, still a bit groggy from his fall. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just the usual aches and pains from crashing into a dumpster. Nothing I can't handle." He stretched, cracking his neck with a loud pop.

“alright 'vance nod and then look at others member of group " remember, pink nation see their female in high regard, do not look their woman directly on their eyes, keep your head down.. "

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Vance's words. "High regard, huh? Sounds like old-fashioned nonsense to me," she muttered under her breath. However, knowing how quickly things could devolve in different territories she begrudgingly nodded.

 

"Got it, no direct eye contact with their women. Head down," she repeated. "Understood."

vance unimpressed with sarah xenophobic comment"yeah, jackass. you.. now kinda queen in here "vance smirk

Sarah rolled her eyes, clearly not amused by the title.

 

"Great. Just peachy. I'm 'Queen' now, huh?"

 

Baker stifled a laugh, obviously enjoying this whole situation a little too much.

They entered Adulis, the city a cacophony of sounds and smells. Vance kept his hand close to his sidearm, his eyes scanning the crowded streets. "My contact frequents a local establishment," he said, leading them through a maze of narrow alleyways. "A place called the Golden Teacup."

The Golden Teacup wasn't a teahouse at all, but a bustling restaurant with tables spilling out onto the street. The aroma of spiced meats and strong coffee hung heavy in the air. As they approached, Sarah noticed a group of figures huddled in the shadows behind the building. They wore dark cloaks, and glints of metal could be seen beneath the fabric—cybernetic implants, perhaps, or weaponry.

"Mercenaries," she murmured, nudging Vance. "Behind the restaurant."

Vance glanced over, his expression tightening. "Just like us," he muttered, taking a sip from a flask he pulled from his coat. He didn't seem overly concerned. "This place is a hub. Mercs looking for work, information brokers, all sorts."

They found a table near the edge of the patio, giving them a view of both the street and the alleyway behind the restaurant. As they settled in, a man with a gas mask spoke up, his voice muffled. "I heard there's a big mess brewing in Central Asia. Is that what brought us here, Vance?"

Vance nodded, rubbing his beard. "That's part of it. But it's not just about the True Horde and the Red Nation. There's work to be found all over… from the legitimate to the… less so."

Sarah leaned forward, intrigued. "So, this place is a good place to find work?" She glanced at Baker, who was quietly observing the surroundings, taking in every detail. "Even the shady kind?" she muttered, more to herself.

Baker chimed in, his eyes narrowed. "Sounds like a lot of red tape too. I bet you have to jump through a lot of hoops just to get paid."

Vance sighed, his voice low. "After our failed revolution in Mexico… I need something bigger. I'm thinking…" He glanced at a tattered map of Central Asia pinned to a nearby wall. "I'm thinking of heading east."

Sarah followed his gaze. Central Asia. She knew of the turmoil and chaos that often plagued that region. A pang of concern shot through her. "Central Asia? You're serious? That's dangerous territory, Vance. You don't know what kind of mess you might stumble into there."

Vance intertwined his fingers, a glint in his eye. "Bigger game, bigger jackpot, I suppose."

Sarah studied his face, trying to gauge his seriousness. His nonchalant attitude, despite the potential danger, put her on edge. "Don't you think you're being a little reckless, Vance? Bigger risk, bigger reward, sure. But if things go south…"

Vance nodded,

Sarah let out a sigh.So, he was being serious. She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated."You really don't have any sense of self-preservation, do you? Central Asia… it's a powder keg ready to explode."

After a moment of tense silence, Vance spoke again, his voice firm. "Our continent is no stranger to conflict. They just exaggerate things to divert world attention."

Sarah gave him a skeptical look. "Maybe," she conceded. "But the tension is real. And you… you're always chasing danger. One day, it'll catch up to you."

Vance smirked. "Speak for yourself, woman."

Sarah raised an eyebrow, returning his smirk. "I'm not the one casually mentioning Central Asia like it's a vacation spot."

Meanwhile, the other members of the group remained quiet, their thoughts drifting back to Mexico and the families they had left behind. Baker's gaze was fixed on a woman across the street, who was playing peek-a-boo with a baby in another woman's arms.

Sarah noticed the sadness in his eyes. She leaned closer, her voice soft. "Thinking about your family?"

Baker nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah… reminds me of my nephews."

Sarah placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel. I worry about my family too. We have to believe they're alright."

 

Baker nodded, his expression a mix of sadness and determination.

 

"You're right. We've got to believe they're holding on, somehow. We can't let ourselves lose hope, not after everything we've been through."

The conversation drifted, the weight of their uncertain future hanging heavy in the air. Unbeknownst to them, their fate was already being decided elsewhere. Miles away, aboard La Buse's submarine…, The crew of the submarine observed the coastal city through the periscope, taking in the bustling activity and scant defenses. La Buse, a smirk on his face, turned to his crew and issued his orders.

 

"Look at that, lads. A city ripe for the picking! Scant defenses, a busy port...it's like they're begging to be targeted."

 

His crew murmured in agreement, grins creeping across their faces as they anticipated the raid.

La Buse's eyes gleamed with excitement as he continued, "We're pirates, not gentlemen. We'll take what we want and leave them in ruins."

 

He then turned to one of his crew. "Prepare the boarding party. We'll be attacking on both land and sea. Let's give them hell!"

when the crew ready to attack. la buse accountant step in on monitor. he adjust his glasses and tie before speak "its was sumbhajee protectorate, you cant just waltz in. i already found broker for our data chip we go from last deal. give up the attack" 

La Buse's grin faltered as the accountant's voice cut through the air, calm and measured. "Captain," accountant said, adjusting his glasses, "I've reviewed the projected gains. An attack on Adulis would be…unwise."

La Buse turned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Unwise? We're pirates. 'Unwise' is our middle name."

"With respect, Captain," the accountant continued, his tone unwavering, "Adulis falls under the protection of the Sumbhajee Protectorate. A direct assault would violate our agreement with Jozen."

La Buse's jaw tightened. The mention of Jozen's name carried weight. It wasn't an oath of fealty, exactly, more of a pragmatic alliance. Jozen provided resources and a degree of legitimacy in exchange for adherence to certain…guidelines. "A little… unofficial business wouldn't hurt," La Buse muttered, glancing back at the city through the periscope.

The accountant simply raised an eyebrow. "Jozen's displeasure is…expensive. I've already secured a buyer for the data chips. The projected profit is…" He tapped a few keys on his console, displaying a figure on the monitor: 2 million credits. "Sufficient to cover our operational costs for the next two cycles."

La Buse stared at the number, his expression shifting from annoyance to calculation. He did a quick mental estimate. "And the potential haul from Adulis?"

"A maximum of 200 million, with a high probability of incurring significant losses, including potential revocation of our operating agreement with Jozen."

La Buse let out a long breath. The accountant's logic was irrefutable. He might crave the thrill of the raid, but he wasn't willing to jeopardize their long-term stability for a short-term gain. "Fine," he conceded, his voice laced with reluctant acceptance. "Call it off. But if that two million doesn't materialize, I'm holding you personally responsible."

“good "the accountant nodded. and end the call. then the monitor turn to usual anime dancing loop, the nearby crew then look at each other. until one speak " do we go back to mexico gulf then?"

La Buse let out a frustrated huff and turned away from the monitor. He knew the accountant was right, but that didn't make him any less annoyed.

 

He glanced at the nearby crew and considered their question. "Mexico Gulf...I guess. That's where we get most of our supplies, after all."

 

He then looked back at the dancing anime girls on the monitor, his irritation returning. "But seriously, can we turn off that crap?"

later. one of crew tasked to examine the datachips before attempt to sell it. among them its had title. “early day of zion”. the crew member look at each other. and shrug. he then use his vr helmet. then transport to the virtual reality.

What used to be Mexico was now just a wasteland. The ruins of a village sat under a low sun, making everything cast long shadows. A little kid named Zion was hiding behind some barrels, his heart going crazy. He was too young to really get what was happening, but he’d seen some seriously messed-up stuff.

A gang of raiders—tech scavengers—had stormed the village. They set houses on fire, their shouts and laughter mixing with the crackling flames. They weren't there for a simple looting and massacre. They were after the data chips people had on the backs of their heads, shouting about a revolution or something. Stuff Zion didn't understand.

Zion was shaking, peeking through the gaps in the barrels as his neighbors were dragged out of their homes, their cries swallowed by the fire. His world was falling apart.

As the sun went down, the raiders did their thing, looting and pillaging. Zion felt a mix of anger and despair, but he stayed quiet. He knew it was the only way to stay safe.

Then, Warlord Wu and his crew showed up. They hit the raiders hard and fast. Zion watched Wu's warriors fight, their blades flashing in the dying light. For the first time that day, he felt a tiny bit of hope.

One of the warriors found Zion hiding. He knelt down, looking serious. "Well, look what we have here," he said. Wu, a bald man in a crimson exosuit with human skulls on his shoulders, came over. "Bring the boy to me," he ordered.

Zion stood in front of Wu, feeling both scared and impressed. "You're coming with me," Wu said. Zion knew he didn't have a choice.

Days turned into weeks. Zion was forced into the arena, fighting other boys for wu amusement. He learned to fight and dancing, adapting to his harsh new reality. But the memories of the village haunted him.

One night, after a particularly brutal match, Zion found himself in the center of the hall, half-naked and bruised. He glanced around, and his heart sank as he saw the victor of the fight being dragged away by Wu's vassals. The boy's cries echoed in Zion's mind, a chilling reminder of the darkness that surrounded him. It was a world where strength ruled, and the weak were preyed upon.

Zion's fighting skills improved, but so did the brutality around him. Wu planned a large-scale invasion to eliminate the remaining bandits. Zion became friends with another boy, Keith. They shared their struggles and dreams of freedom.

However, the arrival of the Amazonian mercenaries changed everything. Wu hired these fierce female warriors to bolster his forces, and among them was Lucy, a dark-skinned woman whose strength and beauty captivated Keith. As their bond deepened, Zion felt a pang of jealousy. He had lost his closest friend to the allure of love, and the rift between them grew.

The war continued. Zion led his fighters into battle. The tension between him and Keith escalated, culminating in an argument during a feast. In a fit of rage, Zion killed Keith.

The room fell silent, the weight of Zion's actions crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. Lucy's eyes burned with fury as she confronted him, but before she could challenge him, Wu intervened, furious at the chaos Zion had unleashed. The bond between the Amazonian mercenaries and Wu's forces shattered, and Lucy vanished, leaving Zion to grapple with the consequences of his actions

In the aftermath, Zion found himself at his lowest point. The guilt of killing his friend consumed him, and he swore off alcohol, vowing never to let it cloud his judgment again. The world around him felt darker, and he began to despise women, blaming them for the chaos that had unfolded.

But the guilt didn't lead to simple remorse. It festered, twisting into something darker. I should have been stronger. I should have been in control. He began to see weakness everywhere, in himself, in Wu, in the world itself. Power. That’s what I need. Power to prevent this from ever happening again. He began to see the world not in terms of right and wrong, but in terms of power and weakness.

Rumors of advanced technology on the east coast, technology capable of imbuing Dolls with personalities, reached his ears. If I could just… undo what I’ve done. The idea of reversing death, of controlling life and death itself, became an obsession. It wasn't about reviving Keith anymore; it was about proving he could conquer even death, that he could become something more than the man who killed his friend.

Seeking redemption, Zion heard rumors of advanced technology in a lab to the east coast, a place where data chips could turn Dolls into beings with personalities. perhaps he can revive keith back with his memory,  With a band of warriors, he set out to find this lab, hoping it would provide him with the power he craved.

At the lab who hidden inside the mountain, Zion felt both excitement and apprehension. He hoped to find answers there. He met Wraith, a mysterious figure. Their meeting became a turning point.

The shadows of his past remained, but with Wraith's help, Zion saw a way forward. He was determined to rise from his past, to become a powerful ruler. He prepared to embrace both darkness and light, ready to make his mark on the world.

 

 

Chapter 60 The Heist

 

Meanwhile, in a wacky corner of the winter war, back in early December 2404 when Hazel was still hopelessly lost in the Altai maze before christmas,

Mei and her squad were deep behind enemy lines, infiltrating General Sima’s base in the South Altai Gulag. they are one best of wanderers and some mercenary who brazen enough to that

 “Alright, team,” Mei whispered, her breath puffing out like a dragon in the frosty air. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark reminder of the chaos unfolding outside the walls of General Sima’s base. “I’ve neutralized the armory guards, so we now have access to explosives! This could turn the tide in the ongoing conflict. Next stop, the watchtowers!”

 

Kirk, a man with short silver hair, shot her a conspiratorial wink. “Seduction tactics again, Mei? You’re not planning to charm the guards with your dazzling smile, are you?”

 

 “Hey, you know me too well,” she replied with a playful smirk, her mind already racing with mischievous possibilities.

 

As they moved stealthily through the shadows, the distant sounds of gunfire echoed, a grim reminder of the stakes at play. The Red Nation's forces were advancing, and every second counted. Mei felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders; their success could shift the balance of power in the Altai region.

 

After planting explosives with the precision of a master chef icing a cake, they shared a silent high-five. But their victory was short-lived when Red Army soldiers appeared, suspicion etched on their faces

 

“What are you doing here?” one barked, crossing his arms like a bouncer at a club.

 

“Uh, we’re just here to inspect the sentry,” Kirk stammered, trying to sound convincing but failing spectacularly.

 

“Yeah? So why are you here when you’re not supposed to?” the soldier shot back,

 

Just as the situation was about to spiral into chaos, Vance a man with brown hair, their unseen ally, emerged from the shadows like a ninja in a bad action movie. With a swift motion, he shot the guard with a silenced pistol. “Thanks me later. Now let’s clean this mess up,” he said coolly, these trio are the CAD team , a wanderer operators,

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged relieved glances as they followed Vance to General Sima’s office. “He’s probably hiding in the mine. Only high-ranking officials and authorized guards can access it,” Vance explained,

 

Mei nodded, her mind churning. “We can use the explosives at the watchtower as cover for our infiltration. Set them off just after we enter.”

 “Yeah, but they’ll be on high alert once we do that,” Vance cautioned, eyes narrowing

 

Kirk’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying we’re sacrificing ourselves for this assassination?”

 

“Let’s find a better way, then,” Vance suggested, scratching his head.

 

Taking a deep breath, Mei began to devise another plan. “Kirk, you’re a pretty boy, right?”

 

Kirk blushed. “Why are you asking me?”

 

“Your looks might charm the guards,” she said with a smirk.

 

“You want me to seduce the guard?” he replied incredulously, his face turning as red as a tomato.

 

Vance raised an eyebrow. “How do you know they’re not straight, Mei?”

 

With a confident grin, Mei pulled out her lipstick and began to apply it, transforming herself into a distraction. “Watch me.”

 

Vance and Kirk exchanged looks, both impressed and slightly bewildered. As Mei approached the guards, they were too captivated by her charm to notice the imminent danger.

 

“Okay, that’s our cue,” Vance whispered. He and Kirk swiftly scaled the fence while Mei kept the guards occupied, her charm working like magic.

 

Once over the fence, they regrouped, the tension palpable. “That was awesome! You actually succeeded at seducing a guard,” Kirk said, admiration in his voice.

 

“I know,” Mei replied, her smirk returning,

 

As they navigated the mine’s labyrinthine corridors, Vance activated his AI sensor. “-30°C temperatures, biting winds, barbed wire fences, and armed guards patrolling every thirty minutes. We need to split up to cover more ground and find Sima’s office.”

 

As they exchanged determined nods, the air crackled with tension. The ancient prisoner building was their best bet for locating General Sima,. The True Horde tank division was looming, and they needed to move fast!

 

“What happens after we find Sima?” Kirk asked, trying to keep his voice steady,

 

“Capture or kill,” Vance replied casually, raising an eyebrow. “What? You got a crush on him or something?”

 

Kirk felt his irritation bubble. “No! I’m just a professional! Capturing him alive is easier to interrogate than a corpse!”

 

“True, but capturing him won’t be a walk in the park. We’re outnumbered,” Vance cautioned, “Let’s save the capture strategy for when we know his location.”

 

 

As they navigated the maze of mine tunnels, s. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows, and every creak sounded like a ghost whispering

 

Suddenly, they spotted scientists huddled around a bizarre machine, their lab coats stark against the drab surroundings. Curiosity tugged at Kirk and Mei, but they knew better than to poke the bear.

 

“Look, we’re running out of time. We need to head towards the ancient prisoner building,” Kirk urged, his voice a mix of urgency and excitement.

 

“Right! Let’s secure Sima first!” Vance agreed, and as they approached the building, they noticed two guards stationed at the entrance, with a camera perched above

 

“How do we take down the guards without being seen by that camera?” Kirk pondered, scratching his head.

 

“What if I distract them? The camera is too high to see me,” Vance suggested, his eyes narrowing with determination.

 

“Go for it!” Kirk replied, trusting Vance’s

 

Vance sauntered toward the guards, a casual air about him as he pretended to be lost. “Hey, fellas, I forgot something. Can you help me out?”

 

The guards exchanged skeptical glances but seemed willing to oblige. Kirk watched, heart racing, as Vance led the guards away from the camera’s view.

 

Then, with a sudden yelp, Vance clutched his leg dramatically. “Arrgh! My leg is cramping! Help me!” He collapsed to the ground, putting on an impressive act worthy of an Oscar.

 

Kirk couldn’t help but smile at the cleverness of the ruse. The guards rushed to Vance’s side, genuine concern etched on their faces.

 

“Thanks, and sorry about this... hey, look! Stalin’s ghost behind you!” Vance shouted, springing into action and tasing both guards before they could react.

 

As they crumpled to the ground, Kirk nodded in awe. “That’s a damn cool move, Vance. You can stop with the ghost stories now.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hide these bodies,” Vance chuckled, quickly dragging the guards out of sight. He then took aim at the camera, silencing it with a well-placed shot.

 

With the camera disabled, a sense of relief washed over them. However, the reinforced steel door loomed ahead,

 

“This door looks tough. We might have to do this the hard way,” Kirk said, eyeing the obstacle like it owed him money.

 

Vance raised an eyebrow. “How?”

 

“Blasting it open would be the easiest way, but we need explosives,” Kirk replied, glancing around for any tools.

 

“Maybe there’s a mechanism to open it? A manual override?” Vance suggested, examining the area

 

“Good idea. But I don’t see any keys or cards on the guards,” Kirk said, peering at the door’s fortified exterior.

 

Just then, Vance noticed a faint glow coming from the door handle. “Look! There’s a keycard reader on the knob.”

 

Kirk’s eyes widened. “Great. Let’s brute force it or find a keycard that’ll work.”

 

“Honestly, I’ve never encountered something like this before,” Vance admitted, scratching his head.

 

“Me neither. We don’t have much time before the True Horde arrives,” Kirk urged, glancing at his watch like it was a ticking time bomb.

 

“Let’s try this: you and Mei act as guards, and I’ll find someone to help. Play it cool,” Vance instructed.

 

Kirk and Mei nodded, preparing themselves for the ruse. “Just make sure to bluff if you can’t open the door,” Kirk said. “We’ll have your back.”

 

Vance disappeared deeper into the mine, and about ten minutes later, he returned with a portly officer, visibly tipsy. “Here, man! Can you open it? General Sima needs to take a piss!” Vance exclaimed, barely containing his laughter.

 

Kirk and Mei snickered at the sight of the drunken officer. “Well played, Vance. Let’s see if he’s dumb enough to open the door for us,” Kirk whispered.

 

The officer stumbled forward, fumbling with the keycard reader as he tried to unlock the door. “Uh, how do we open this?” he mumbled, clearly out of his depth.

 

“Never mind. Where’s a higher officer nearby?” Vance probed, shaking the officer gently.

 

The officer mumbled incoherently, his drunkenness evident. “I dunno, man…”

 

“Looks like he’s useless,” Kirk said, rolling his eyes.

 

With a swift motion, Vance punched the officer, knocking him out cold. “I’ll disguise myself as him and head deeper into the mine.”

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, impressed by Vance’s quick thinking. “Good plan. Just don’t get caught,” Kirk warned as Vance donned the officer’s clothes.

 

Once Vance was disguised, he ventured further into the mine, where he encountered a lab-coated technician. “How is the project down there?” Vance inquired, feigning authority.

 

The technician was taken aback. “Uh, the project is going well, sir. The power cell generation has increased, and the new plasma gun is about to be mass-produced.”

 

“Sounds cool. Why is General Sima producing it in a remote area like this?” Vance asked, maintaining his cover.

 

The technician shrugged, oblivious to the deception. “It’s less visible and more secure from infiltration.”

 

“Got it. Where’s the engineer’s quarters? We need to fix a door issue,” Vance pressed.

 

The technician pointed down the corridor. “Over there, sir. They handle all technical problems.”

 

“Thanks,” Vance said, striding toward the engineer’s building. Once inside, he found a middle-aged engineer buried in paperwork.

 

“Officer, what’s the issue?” the engineer asked, looking up with curiosity.

 

“Can’t open a door both from inside and outside,” Vance stated, trying to sound authoritative.

 

“Really? That’s strange,” the engineer replied, intrigued. “You might need a specific keycard.”

 

“Look, I’m a soldier, not an engineer. Just go check it out,” Vance insisted, trying to maintain control of the situation.

 

“Of course, sir. I’ll gather my team,” the engineer said, a hint of confusion in his voice.

 

Together, they walked back to the door. The engineer inspected it closely, noting the malfunctioning keycard reader. “It’s stuck, possibly due to a faulty reader.”

 

“Can you open it?” Vance asked, the urgency in his voice palpable.

 

The engineer nodded, pulling out various tools. As he tested different keycards, Kirk and Mei waited nervously, eyes darting between the engineer and the door.

 

Finally, the engineer found a working keycard, and with a satisfying click, the door swung open. “The original keycard must be faulty,” he said, handing the spare keycard to Vance.

 

“Thank you, and God bless you,” Vance said, tapping the engineer’s shoulder with genuine gratitude.

 

The engineer nodded, relieved that his superior was kind. As he began to fix the keycard reader, Vance turned to Kirk and Mei. “Alright, let’s go find Sima.”

 

With their path now clear, the trio stepped into the unknown, ready to confront whatever awaited them in the depths of the mine.

Vance ventured deeper into the mine, Kirk trailing closely while Mei covered their six. The further they pushed into the darkness, the more the light seemed to dwindle, transforming the walls into shadowy figures. Vance navigated cautiously through the dimly lit passageways, his instincts heightened.

 

“Look at this iron bar,” he remarked, running his fingers over the cool, solid metal. “A relic from the Soviet era, and still not rusty. Impressive.”

 

He scanned the long, identical hallways flanked by doors that could belong to any military barracks. There were no signs to indicate General Sima’s office, and Vance felt the weight of uncertainty press on him. “We’re going to get lost easily in here. Alright, let’s keep moving.”

 

To avoid confusion, Vance marked the wall with his dagger as they walked, leaving a trail to follow. After several minutes of navigating the maze, they reached another intersection of hallways, each one branching off into the unknown.

 

“It’s been ten minutes already,” Vance noted, glancing at his watch. “We should split up. It’ll be faster this way.”

 

Kirk nodded in agreement, and Vance decided to go alone, relying on his agility and stealth. Mei stayed with Kirk, the cautious duo ready to tackle the oppressive darkness together.

 

“Who in their right mind would choose this place for an office?” Vance muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he pushed further into the gloom.

 

As he explored, a dim light flickered from a cell at the end of the hallway. Drawing his gun, he approached cautiously. Inside, a figure slumped in the corner, clad in the stark white of a prisoner's uniform. Their eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Vance.

 

“Who are you?” Vance demanded, his voice low and tense. “A prisoner?”

 

“Yes… I’m a prisoner. Who are you?” the figure replied, fear lacing their voice.

 

“I’m going to kill Sima,” Vance said bluntly.

 

The figure's fear intensified, and he pressed himself against the corner of the cell, trembling. “Please… don’t hurt me!”

 

The figure hesitated, panic evident in his demeanor. “I… I’m just a prisoner. I don’t know why you want to kill General Sima.”

 

“It’s my mission to end this war,” Vance replied, his tone unyielding.

 

“I understand,” the figure said, his voice shaky. “I can’t stop you from killing him, but I beg you to spare my life.”

 

“Why are you locked in here?” Vance asked, intrigued despite himself.

 

Taking a deep breath, the figure seemed to accept his fate. “I’m a prisoner of war. I was part of the Red Nation, captured on the battlefield. They haven’t tortured me, but I’ve been locked in this cell for some time now.”

 

“Bullshit. You must be some sort of high rank. What’s your name?” Vance pressed, skepticism in his voice.

 

“I might be high-ranking, but I’ve been stripped of my rank and equipment. My name is Sima Yijin,” the figure snapped, irritation seeping through his fear.

 

“Are you a deserter? Related to General Sima, perhaps? Like… twins?” Vance probed.

 

Sima Yijin froze at the mention of twins. “Yes… I’m the identical twin brother of General Sima. But how do you know about our relation?”

 

“Your damn name,” Vance replied, his tone flat.

 

Sima Yijin’s eyes narrowed, tension rising. “Yes, I’m Sima Yijin. But do you actually believe I’m his twin?”

 

“Not sure… anyway. Do you know where he is right now?” Vance shot back.

 

Surprised by the sudden question, Sima Yijin hesitated. “Yes… General Sima is currently in that office.” He pointed down the hallway.

 

Vance turned and moved toward the indicated office, his heart racing. But as he reached the door, two armored guards suddenly opened fire. He barely ducked in time, bullets ricocheting off the walls around him.

 

“Damn!” Vance grunted, scrambling for cover. The guards were heavily armed, and he needed a plan.

 

Vance pulled out a stun grenade and hurled it toward the guards. The explosive detonated with a deafening bang, dazing them momentarily. He took advantage of the chaos, but his bullets ricocheted off the guards’ armor, doing little to stop them.

 

“Vance,” he heard Kirk’s voice crackle over the comms. “Where are you?”

 

“I think I found the general’s location, but I’m pinned down by guards. Get over here now. I’m in the west area, just follow my marks on the wall!”

 

Kirk and Mei moved quickly, and within minutes, they arrived at Vance’s location.

 

“Get down!” Vance shouted as Kirk and Mei ducked, knowing they were in danger. The guards, still stunned, were an intimidating sight, their heavy armor glinting ominously in the dim light.

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, assessing the guards’ movements. They needed to act quickly; time was not on their side.

 

Spotting a small gap between the guards as they shifted, Kirk signaled to Mei. They rushed in from opposite sides, catching the guards off guard and forcing them into a melee.

 

Vance watched, eager to join the fray, but the close quarters made it difficult to take a clean shot. Kirk and Mei were fast and agile, keeping the guards on their toes.

 

“Fuck! What should I do?” Vance muttered, trying to find an opening. Just then, Kirk managed to kick one guard’s weapon toward Vance.

 

“Grab it!” Kirk yelled as the weapon flew into Vance's reach.

 

Vance snatched the assault rifle and shouted, “Mei, Kirk, duck now!”

 

They immediately obeyed, dropping to the ground just as Vance squeezed the trigger. Bullets tore through the air, striking the guard and sending him crashing to the floor.

 

“Good job! Now, to the general,” Vance said, adrenaline pumping through him.

 

The office door loomed just ahead. “Let's breach it. I’ll throw a stun grenade, then we go in,” Vance instructed.

 

Kirk nodded, pulling out his stun grenade as they approached the door. “Ready.”

 

“Three… two… one!” Vance flung the door open and Kirk tossed in the grenade. A loud bang echoed as they charged inside, but what they found sent a chill down their spines.

 

General Sima lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling beneath him. A gun rested beside his hand, and the tragic scene was all too clear.

 

“Did he die before we got here?” Kirk asked, his voice heavy with concern.

 

Vance knelt beside the body, examining the scene. “Perhaps. He must have heard the guards firing.”

 

The warmth of General Sima's body still lingered, a grim reminder of his final moments. There were no signs of struggle; it was evident this was a suicide.

 

“Well, at least our mission is complete,” Vance said, his voice low. “We made sure he didn’t escape before our army arrived.”

 

Kirk nodded, his expression somber. “It’s sad that General Sima chose to end his life. No one should feel that desperate.”

 

Mei stood silently, the weight of the moment settling over them like a heavy shroud. The mission had been successful, but the cost was far greater than they had anticipated.

 

“Alright, how about we check out that weird machine down in the mine?” Vance suggested, his curiosity piqued.

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged hesitant glances. They had already completed their primary objective, but the lure of uncovering something valuable was hard to resist.

 

“It might be worth a try,” Kirk replied cautiously. “That machine could be something unusual, and we don’t want to miss out on any opportunities.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve heard rumors it might produce some kind of weapon,” Vance added, excitement creeping into his voice. “Let’s go!”

 

The trio moved carefully through the dimly lit corridors, keeping their eyes peeled for any lurking guards. Mei scanned the doorways with a practiced eye, her footsteps light and silent, while Kirk brought up the rear, his senses on high alert.

 

As they neared the exit from the prison area to the mine complex, a violent explosion rocked the foundation, sending shockwaves through the air.

 

“Whoa!” Kirk shouted, losing his balance as the ground shook beneath them. The explosion had triggered a mini-earthquake, destabilizing the already precarious structure of the base.

 

“Damn! My ears are ringing! What kind of ammo are they using?” Vance grimaced, pressing a hand to his ear, pain radiating through him.

 

“Sounds like something pretty powerful,” Kirk replied, concern etching his features. “Maybe a special weapon that produces shockwaves.”

 

They continued on until they reached the exit, only to find their path blocked by a massive landslide caused by the explosion.

 

“Great. We can’t use this exit,” Kirk muttered, studying the rubble. “We need to find another way out.”

 

“Damn it. Let’s go deeper into the mine and hope there’s another exit,” Vance said, leading the way. Kirk and Mei followed, anxiety gnawing at them. This mine was their only chance for escape.

 

As they delved further, they noticed a group of guards and workers gathered in a nearby building.

 

“Let’s blend in,” Vance whispered. “They don’t know we’re part of the True Horde yet.”

 

Kirk and Mei hesitated, glancing at each other. Blending in was risky, but they realized the guards and workers were still unaware of the attack on their base. They followed Vance into the crowd, trying to look inconspicuous.

 

“Road is blocked, and we’ve lost contact with outside,” a worker said, worry evident in his voice.

 

“The base has been overrun by the enemy,” a soldier added grimly.

 

“We have to find a way to contact our command and get help,” the worker replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

 

Listening to the conversation, Kirk felt a surge of hope. If the guards were planning to contact their command for surrender, it might provide a way for them to escape without raising suspicion.

 

“Is there really only one way out?” Vance asked, feigning concern.

 

“Yeah, the main route is blocked. We’re trapped here,” the soldier admitted, frustration tightening his features.

 

Kirk’s heart sank. They needed to escape, and the last thing they wanted was to be trapped here with the guards. “Is there no other exit route?” he pressed.

 

Vance, sensing the tension rising, asked the crowd, “Do you have any tools to dig our way out?”

 

The guards and workers exchanged wary glances, suspicion creeping into their expressions as they slowly approached Vance.

 

“What? This used to be a mine, right?” Vance continued, trying to maintain his composure.

 

The guards didn’t respond immediately, and the atmosphere grew thick with unease as they surrounded Vance, Kirk, and Mei.

 

“Hey, do we have a new weapon?” Vance blurted out, hoping to deflect their suspicion.

 

The mention of a new weapon caused the crowd to tense further, with guards shifting uncomfortably.

 

“Alright, do you all want to survive or not? Brace yourselves!” Vance declared, causing the crowd to stop in their tracks, confused.

 

“Good. Now take a deep breath—out! We need to work calmly to survive,” he instructed, his voice steady.

 

Vance then pointed to a man in a lab coat. “Can our new weapon blast through the blockage?”

 

The lab-coated man hesitated before responding, “The new weapon definitely has that power. It can blast through pretty much any obstacle.”

 

“Good. Then let’s work together to blast our way out,” Vance urged.

 

The lab coat man turned to the others, his authority rising. “Everyone, take your positions! We’re blasting our way out of here!”

 

Kirk and Mei were assigned to help the blast team, feeling relieved that they wouldn’t have to resort to violence. They gathered supplies nearby to sustain the workers and guards while they prepared for the blast.

 

As the device was wheeled into position, the lab-coat man explained, “This device is a prototype, but it needs some configuration before it can fire.”

 

Kirk and Mei sensed the intensity in the air as everyone worked to set up the device. Anticipation hung heavy as they waited for the blast, hoping it would clear their escape route.

 

With a sudden roar, debris and stones flew as the device detonated, filling the tunnels with chaos. Dust swirled around them, and the blocked passage partially cleared, revealing a narrow opening.

 

But just as hope surged, the machine sputtered and came to a halt.

 

“Damn! It’s burned out,” the lab coat man sighed. “We need to fix it. This will take a while.”

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged frustrated glances. The machine had failed them just when they needed it most.

 

“While the workers fix the machine, let’s gather food and water nearby,” Vance suggested, trying to keep spirits up despite the setback.

 

Reluctantly, Kirk and Mei followed Vance’s lead, knowing they needed to prepare for whatever lay ahead. They began searching for supplies, hoping to gather enough to sustain the workers and guards during the delay.

 

As Vance worked, he found himself thinking of Sima’s twin, still locked away in his cell. Returning to the prison area, he approached the somber figure. “Hello again. Your brother is dead.”

 

Sima Yijin remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He got what he deserved, a bitter voice whispered in his mind. But another, quieter voice countered, He was still my brother. It was a reaction Vance hadn’t anticipated; he expected some flicker of emotion,

 

“Do you want to be free?” Vance asked, trying to provoke a response.

 

Still, Sima Yijin said nothing, his gaze unwavering. Vance’s patience wore thin. “Yes or no?”

 

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Vance sensed that Sima was lost in thought, trapped in his own mind.

 

“Alright, goodbye, I guess…” Vance muttered, walking away as Sima remained silent.

 

Rejoining Kirk and Mei, Vance checked his radio, frowning as he realized it was still too deep to get a signal. “We’re too deep to use the radio,” he said, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

 

Hours passed, and just as hope began to wane, the machine roared back to life once more. Light flickered as it began firing again, but after only a few meters, it sputtered and stopped again.

 

“Damn it!” Vance exclaimed, exasperation rising. “We’re going to be stuck here forever!”

 

The machine’s repeated failures were testing everyone’s patience. Kirk and Mei exchanged glances,

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, disbelief etched on their faces as they watched the machine sputter and fail once more. Each attempt to repair it seemed to only exacerbate their frustration. The device barely managed to clear a few meters before it stalled again, leaving them feeling helpless.

 

“Alright, everyone, good job so far. Let’s take a break,” Vance announced, glancing at the weary workers around him.

 

The lab-coated man and the other workers nodded, grateful for the chance to rest. The repair process had proven to be far more arduous than anyone had anticipated, and fatigue was beginning to set in for everyone, including Kirk and Mei.

 

“So, what’s the issue?” Vance asked, looking over at the lab coat man as they settled down. “Is the machine overheating?”

 

The lab coat man and his team began inspecting the machine, murmuring amongst themselves. “Yeah, it’s getting too hot, which triggers the shut-off mechanism,” he explained. “The heat is just too intense.”

 

“I see,” Vance said, scratching his head. “I’m no tech expert, but I know that with the Vickers machine gun, they literally put water in the barrels to prevent overheating. Maybe we could try something similar?”

 

The lab coat man’s eyes lit up with understanding. “That makes sense! We can attach a water hose to keep it cool. With a steady flow of water, we can avoid overheating.”

 

“Can you do that?” Vance asked.

 

“Absolutely. It’s doable!” the lab coat man replied, quickly rallying the workers to find a hose. Within moments, they had it connected, and the lab coat man confidently restarted the machine. To everyone’s relief, it roared back to life.

 

“Well, it feels great to help,” Vance said, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

 

The machine hummed steadily now, blasting rocks and debris from the tunnel, inching their escape closer.

 

After some hours of hard work, they finally emerged from the mine, breathing in the fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. Kirk and Mei stepped outside, relief flooding through them as they took in the midday sun, their faces breaking into smiles.

 

“Yay!” they cheered, but their jubilation quickly faded as they took in the devastation surrounding the base.

 

“What happened here?” Kirk murmured, his heart sinking. The base lay in ruins, signs of a catastrophic battle evident everywhere.

 

As they surveyed the destruction, they spotted the wreckage and bodies of both Red Army soldiers and True Horde fighters scattered across the ground. The carnage shocked them, a grim reminder of the battle that had unfolded.

 

“This place looks like a war zone,” Mei said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “What could have caused this?”

 

Vance grasped his radio, attempting to contact HQ. “Command, this is Vance. The enemy’s Strato Cannon hit the base when we took it. The entire tank division is annihilated.”

 

After a pause, the voice on the other end replied, “Copy that, Command. But we found General Sima dead. We request extraction.”

 

“Roger that. Your extraction point will be in Yagil,” came the response.

 

Vance frowned, glancing at Kirk and Mei. “But that’s over 40 kilometers away! Just send a helicopter!”

 

Silence hung heavily after his plea, leaving Vance feeling increasingly anxious. It seemed the command had bigger problems to handle, and his request for immediate extraction had been ignored.

 

“Alright, orders received. Out,” Vance said, turning to Kirk and Mei, who were still processing the devastation around them.

 

Kirk and Mei stood in shock, their faces pale as they took in the destruction. They realized how perilous their situation had become, trapped deep behind enemy lines with no clear way out.

 

As they stood in silence, the workers who had emerged from the mine began surveying the wreckage, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief at the scene before them.

 

After a long, tense moment, Vance broke the silence. “Alright, guys. Let’s gather supplies. We’re walking to Yagil. It’s about 40 kilometers west from here.”

 

Kirk and Mei exchanged nervous glances. The long trek ahead felt daunting, but they knew there was no other choice. They quickly agreed to Vance’s plan, starting to gather whatever supplies they could find.

 

Before they left, Vance decided to check on Sima Yijin again. He retraced his steps back to the prison area, pulled out his gun, and shot the lock off the cell door.

 

“Thanks me later,” he quipped as he opened it.

 

Sima Yijin was still sitting in the corner, his expression unchanged. “What took you so long?” he asked, his tone flat.

 

“Follow me,” Vance said, leading him out of the cell and toward the supply storage area. Sima Yijin fell in step behind him, silent but compliant.

 

As they reached the storage area, Vance greeted the workers and lab-coated man, who were busy organizing supplies. After a brief farewell, Vance, Kirk, Mei, and Sima Yijin set off into the harsh winter steppe, the biting cold wind whipping around them.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 61 Escort the gift

 

The journey was grueling, the snow crunching beneath their boots as they pressed on. Mei and Kirk stayed silent, the weight of their circumstances heavy on their shoulders. Eventually, they could no longer hold back their curiosity.

 

“So, Vance, who’s this guy with us?” Kirk finally asked, glancing back at Sima Yijin.

 

Vance turned to face them. “This is Sima Yijin, General Sima Shan’s identical twin brother. I found him locked up in the mine and decided to release him. He was a hostage of the Red Army, just in case his brother ever rebelled.”

 

“I see. He must have valuable information for us,” Kirk said, nodding thoughtfully.

 

“Exactly. Sima Yijin might know something about the Red Army and their operations. We’ll talk more once we’ve had a chance to rest,” Vance replied.

 

As the group continued their trek, they spotted a forest area in the distance.

 

“Let’s rest there,” Vance suggested, pointing. The trees promised some protection from the relentless cold.

 

They made their way to the forest, finally able to take a break from the bitter wind. Huddled against a tree, they caught their breath, grateful for the shelter.

 

“It’s about 32 kilometers to Yagil,” Vance announced. “We’d better set up camp for the night and continue tomorrow.”

 

The proposal met with tired nods.

 

Inside their cramped tent, Kirk voiced a concern that had been nagging at him. “Why didn’t the people in the mine know about General Sima’s death? And why was his twin locked up in the same place?”

 

Vance’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Sima Yijin, who had been silent throughout the evening, sitting across from them.

 

“Ehem… I think it’s time you spoke up,” Vance finally said, looking at Sima.

 

Sima Yijin took a moment, his expression unreadable as he considered his words.

 

“Why was your brother holding you captive?” Vance pressed gently.

 

Sima Yijin sighed, the weight of his situation heavy on him. “It’s a long story,” he began,

Sima Yijin finally broke his silence, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of sadness. “My twin decided to lock me up after the war between the Blood Khaganate and the Red Army. He feared I would lead a rebellion against the Red Army.”

 

“Spicy,” Vance replied, eyebrow raised. “So there’s potential for rebellion. But what’s up with that sophisticated machine they’re trying to build in the mine?”

 

Sima Yijin continued, his expression serious. “My brother is developing a highly sophisticated machine to counter the advanced technology wielded by the Red Army. This machine could be a game-changer when the two sides clash again.”

 

Vance’s brow furrowed. “What does your brother’s true loyalty belong to?”

 

Sima looked away, contemplating the question. It was a loaded inquiry, one that could land him in the crossfire between the Red Army and his own twin.

 

“I think our superiors would love to hear that,” Vance said, pressing.

 

Realizing he had no way out, Sima finally spoke. “We’re both from the Red Army, but my brother is far more ruthless. He’ll do whatever it takes for victory, even if it means sacrificing lives. Me? I’m loyal to both the Red Army and the Blood Khaganate.”

 

“Alright, so the reason he’s hiding in the mine is for tactical purposes and secrecy?” Vance summarized.

 

Sima nodded in agreement. “Exactly. As the general, he’s very strategic. Hiding in the mine provides a significant advantage for planning.”

 

Vance exchanged glances with Kirk and Mei, a plan forming in his mind. But exhaustion weighed heavily on him. “Let’s rest. It’s too much for one day.”

 

The night passed, and as dawn broke, the team prepared for their journey back to the extraction point. After a quick breakfast, they resumed their trek, but soon found themselves resting on a hill.

 

While sitting around, Kirk suddenly spotted something unusual on the horizon. “Guys, look!” he exclaimed, squinting through his binoculars. “It’s an enemy light tank patrol, and they’re moving fast!”

 

“not a santa claust? Do they see us?” Vance asked, tension creeping into his voice.

 

Kirk focused intently. “Yeah, they’ve spotted us. They’re closing in!”

 

“What do we do now?” Vance asked, urgency in his tone.

 

With time running out, Kirk and Mei exchanged worried looks. They needed to act quickly.

 

“What if we bluff? Pretend we’re retreating with General Sima?” Vance proposed, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

 

Kirk raised an eyebrow. “That might actually work.”

 

“Good. Sima’s face is identical to his brother’s. We can say we’re retreating after the base was attacked,” Vance explained. “Just follow my lead.”

 

As the enemy light tank approached, Vance called out, “Identify yourselves! We know you’re back there!”

 

Vance took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. “My name is Vance. We’re the Red Army, stranded here after our base was attacked. We’re retreating with General Sima.”

 

“Come closer!” a soldier from the tank commanded, the cannon still aimed at them.

 

“General Sima is with me. We’re unarmed and mean no harm,” Vance continued, raising his hands. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the tank.

 

“Hand over your ID card now!” the soldier ordered.

 

Vance quickly handed over a fake ID card, his heart racing as the soldier scrutinized it.

 

“I see... Sergeant Vance. You said General Sima is still alive? Where is he?” the soldier asked.

 

Vance seized the moment. “Of course he’s alive! He’s right here with me…” He gestured to Sima Yijin behind him and whistled for Kirk and Mei to join them, who hesitantly revealed themselves.

 

The red soldier’s demeanor shifted as he dismounted the tank, saluting Sima Yijin. “We’re here to escort you, sir. Faking your death was a brilliant strategy.”

 

Sima looked bewildered, glancing at Vance, who gave him a quick nudge. Understanding the charade, Sima returned the salute and climbed into the tank, still processing the bizarre situation.

 

“Sir, can we ride in the tank too? It’s freezing out here,” Vance requested, trying to keep the atmosphere light despite the tension.

 

Sima hesitated but nodded, allowing Vance, Kirk, and Mei to climb aboard. Inside, the space was cramped and bumpy, making it difficult to find a comfortable position as they jostled with every movement of the vehicle.

 

“I need to take a piss!” Vance suddenly declared, voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “Just stop the tank for a second. I swear it’ll be less than a minute!”

 

The soldiers stared at him in disbelief as the tank came to a halt. The absurdity of the request caught them off guard, and Vance made his move. He crawled toward the hatch, shoving the commander out as he yelled, “Now!”

 

Kirk and Mei sprang into action, leaping from the tank to attack the stunned soldiers inside. Vance took advantage of the chaos, tackling the commander as he fell.

 

“Sleep tight,” Vance muttered, tazing the tank driver while Kirk and Mei subdued the other two soldiers.

 

Within moments, the crew lay incapacitated, and the adrenaline surged through Kirk and Mei. “Can you believe it? We actually pulled that off!” Kirk exclaimed, disbelief mingling with triumph.

 

They quickly tossed the unconscious crew out of the tank, leaving them with some food and water. Vance turned to his companions. “Alright, who can drive this thing?”

 

Kirk and Mei raised their hands, eager to take the wheel. Each had experience with armored vehicles, their confidence shining through.

 

“Alright, let’s move!” Vance urged, grinning as they set off in the captured tank.

 

With the powerful vehicle rolling beneath them, they felt a renewed sense of safety. The tank’s armor offered protection against any potential threats, and they could finally traverse the terrain with speed.

 

“Now we can reach the city in no time,” Vance said, excitement bubbling in his voice.

 

As they navigated the narrow streets, Vance grabbed his radio. “CAD team  to command. We’ve reached the city for extraction. Just a heads up, we’re riding in an enemy tank. Don’t shoot!”

 

“Copy that,” the command responded, clearly surprised but relieved.

 

Despite the awkward maneuvering required to navigate the tank through tight spaces, Kirk and Mei managed to drive it away from the danger, their spirits lifting with each passing kilometer.

 

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the extraction point. Dismounting from the tank, they were greeted by a True Horde commander who raised an eyebrow at their unexpected ride.

 

“So, you found General Sima’s twin and confirmed they’re building a new weapon inside the mine? Well done, CAD team ! And you even delivered a new type of tank for us to study!” the commander praised.

 

Kirk, Mei, and Vance exchanged glances, a wave of satisfaction washing over them. Their mission had been a success. They had gathered crucial intelligence and even secured a valuable asset for their forces.

 

Later, at the year-end party in a bustling bar, the atmosphere was electric with celebration. Kirk, Mei, and Vance sat together, relishing the moment after their hard-earned victory.

 

“So, Mei,” Vance began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I heard you’ve been working with Alam for two years. What’s he like?”

 

Mei took a deep breath, mulling over her answer. “Alam is a very open and cheerful person. He’s quite tall, with a thick beard—definitely interesting to be around.”

 

Vance raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Does he have a wife? I hear he’s a bit of a womanizer!”

 

Mei chuckled but shook her head. “He does have a wife, and he’s loyal to her. No cheating, I promise.”

 

“Really?” Vance feigned surprise. “I guess he’s good at keeping his personal life under wraps. And what about you, Mei? Any boyfriends or husbands hidden away?”

 

Mei flashed a playful smile. “Are you asking if I’m a playgirl?”

 

Vance glanced at Kirk, who quickly interjected, “I have no wife or girlfriend either!”

 

“Ha! And you, Mei? Are you a playgirl?” Vance teased, winking.

 

Mei laughed, a light sound that cut through the bar’s chatter. “I’m not a playgirl. I’m quite reserved and shy, so it’s hard for anyone to win my heart.”

 

Vance leaned in, a grin on his face. “Interesting for a spy known for her seduction techniques.”

 

Mei smirked, shaking her head. “Just because I’m trained in seduction doesn’t mean I’ll use it on everyone. My skills are mission-focused.”

 

“Am I part of that mission?” Vance quipped, raising his glass.

 

“Perhaps,” Mei replied, laughter bubbling up again.

 

As the night wore on, their camaraderie grew, filled with laughter and shared stories of their exploits. The weight of their recent battles faded, replaced by the warmth of friendship and newfound trust in each other.

As the lively atmosphere of the bar pulsed around them, a man in casual attire with black hair settled near Mei and Kirk, a light smile gracing his lips as he took in the joyful crowd celebrating their success.

 

“It’s a good sight, isn’t it?” he remarked, his grin widening.

 

Mei glanced at him, impressed by his calm demeanor. “Yes, it is a good sight. Everyone’s so happy to celebrate,” she replied, her friendly expression softening the moment.

 

The man’s gaze lingered on Mei, surprise flickering in his eyes at her warm smile. “Hmm... you’re smiling. That’s a good sight too,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own.

 

Feeling the weight of his gaze, Mei shyly lowered her eyes, a hint of blush creeping onto her cheeks. It was unusual for someone to be intrigued by her friendliness, and this unexpected attention sent a flutter through her chest.

 

“You have a unique smile,” he continued, taking a sip of his drink. “It makes me feel…” His words trailed off as he searched for the right expression.

 

Mei looked up, her smile widening as she met his gaze. “I’m a bit embarrassed to say this, but it’s a genuine smile. I haven’t smiled like this for a long time. It feels nice,” she admitted, her voice tinged with sincerity.

 

Light’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected such candidness, and a rosy hue crept across his cheeks. “That’s wonderful to hear,” he stammered, taking another sip to mask his flustered state. “Your honesty is truly captivating.”

 

Mei felt a thrill at his reaction, her own heart racing as she sensed his attraction. With a charming smile, she tilted her head, inviting him to continue.

 

Light, feeling emboldened, leaned in closer. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure, what’s your question?” she replied, her tone friendly and curious.

 

Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Is your smile genuine, or is it artificial? You know, like when someone fakes a smile?”

 

Mei was taken aback by the innocent nature of his question. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her with such pure curiosity. A shy smile crept onto her face. “I’m embarrassed to say this, but it’s genuine. I haven’t smiled like this for a very long time.”

 

Light’s surprise deepened, and he felt a flutter in his chest. “That’s refreshing to hear,” he said, his nervousness palpable. “I really like your honesty.”

 

Mei giggled, her heart racing. “Thank you! You know, I think the same about you. You seem quite charming.”

 

Light’s cheeks flushed deeper at her compliment, and he took a quick sip of his drink to compose himself. “I do actually like your personality,” he replied, his voice wavering slightly.

 

Seizing the moment, Mei leaned in closer, feeling the spark of attraction between them. “Really? You can say that again!”

 

Just then, Vance approached, smirking as he caught the exchange. “Hey buddy, how about we give this new couple some space?”

 

Kirk chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, let them have their moment.”

 

As Vance and Kirk settled at the bar, Vance turned to Kirk. “So, why did you join the army?”

 

Kirk sighed, swirling his drink. “Honestly, I don’t know. My life was pretty normal before—just a high school student with a girlfriend and good friends. Nothing troublesome at all.”

 

“Classic,” Vance said, taking a sip. “Same here. I just felt like it was the right thing to do.”

 

Kirk raised an eyebrow. “Did you ever think your life would lead you here?”

 

“Not really. I just do the job. I never expected to be in this position. I thought I’d join the army, get married, and live out my old age,” Vance said, shrugging.

 

“Sometimes, just going with the flow makes life easier,” Kirk suggested, taking another sip of his drink. “Let the wind blow you wherever it wants.”

 

“Yeah, but I remember a book I read as a kid. It said if you just go with the flow, you’ll end up with a boring life,” Vance replied, pondering the wisdom of the words.

 

Kirk chuckled. “That’s an interesting perspective. I’ve heard some philosophers say, ‘Flow like water.’ But I think your book makes a good point too.”

 

“Little surprises keep life interesting,” Vance said, his expression thoughtful.

 

Kirk nodded, appreciating the insight. “I didn’t expect to agree with you on that.”

 

Meanwhile, Mei and Light were still locked in their own world, exchanging shy smiles and laughter as they navigated the delicate dance of attraction.

Chapter 62 Boomba

 

Okay, so what's really going on? Let's rewind back to Zion. Mid-November 2404, and Zion's looking pretty pleased with himself. He's checking out the maps, a little smile playing on his lips. "Looks like things are going our way," he says, watching his Northern and Middle Armies take most of the Altai region. "Alam's getting his butt kicked. We're not stopping until it's all ours."

But then, things got a little… complicated. Word came in that one of their units in the west had run into some serious trouble. Heavy fire from the mountains, then boom—an avalanche blocked their escape route.

Zion frowned. "Mountain fire and an avalanche? Sounds like Alam's trying to be clever. But we're not falling for that. We need to secure that west sector, fast. Gotta avoid that avalanche and keep pushing."

Then, a Red general practically yelled into the comms, “Sir! We’ve got guys trapped in the Altai! They’re completely cut off!”

Zion took a breath. This was bad. "Alright," he said, trying to sound calm. "We can't leave them hanging. We need to get them out, one way or another. Send in reinforcements. We need to relieve the pressure."

General Sima, always eager for a fight, volunteered, "I'll try to break through from the south."

"Good thinking, Sima," Zion agreed. "You're in charge of that. Make sure your troops are ready for anything. I'll oversee the whole thing and help out where I can. We’re getting those guys back.”

While they were getting ready, a tank commander’s voice crackled over the radio, “Sir, we’re under attack! They’re coming from the high ground! They just popped up out of nowhere!”

Zion paused. "A surprise attack, huh? They're trying to overwhelm us with numbers. Hold the line! Don't panic. We need to regroup."

Days dragged by. Sima's breakthrough attempt was a bust. The heavy equipment they needed to clear the roads kept getting shelled from the mountains.

Zion’s jaw tightened. He could feel a headache coming on. "Sima couldn't break through, and now they're picking off our equipment. We can't rely on that anymore. Time for another meeting. We need a new plan to get those guys out."

Back in California, at the war council, one of the Red generals suggested, “Sir, what about airlifting supplies?”

Zion nodded. "That's a thought. But it's a huge operation. Lots of logistics. And it's risky."

"Sir, they still have anti-air guns," an officer warned. "An airlift would be a sitting duck."

"Good point," Zion said. "We need to figure out how strong those defenses are before we do anything. Let’s look at all the options."

Sima spoke up. "We need to get all the trapped guys together and then try to break through from the south. Maybe even blow up part of the mountain to make a new path."

Zion considered this. "Moving them all at once would definitely concentrate our forces. And blowing up the mountain… well, that’s certainly… dramatic."

A Red officer looked a bit worried. “Sir, blowing up a mountain? Isn’t that… a bit much?”

Zion paused. “It’s definitely extreme. The environmental impact would be huge, and it would cost us a lot. But if it’s the only way to save our troops, we can’t rule it out.”

Sima then mentioned, “Our Strato Cannon will be ready in December. It sounds crazy, but it could actually work.”

Zion grinned. "The Strato Cannon. Now that's thinking big. It could blast a hole right through those mountains. Let's keep that on the table."

After a long pause, the same officer asked, “So, what’s the call?”

Zion stood up straight. "We're using the Strato Cannon. It's crazy, I know, but it's our best shot at getting our people back. Let's get it ready."

Somewhere in Hulun Buir, this massive cannon was sitting there under the big Mongolian sky. Guys were scrambling all over it, checking everything.

“Sir, the Strato Cannon is ready to go. It can launch a big payload over 1,150 kilometers,” one of the crew reported. “But we need to do some more tests first.”

Zion nodded. “Make sure everything is perfect. We’re not using it until it’s ready.”

“Sir, where should we aim for the test?” another crew member asked.

One of them suggested, “To get the best accuracy, we should fire at maximum range. Maybe the Pacific or the Arctic? But… you know… international law and stuff.”

Zion rubbed his chin. “Firing into the ocean might cause some… diplomatic issues. We need a target within our own territory. Safety first.”

Sima joked, “We could aim it at the Pacific and say hi to Jozen.”

Zion chuckled. “That would send a message, alright.”

Then, a Red general cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Sir, any plans for the end-of-year conference?”

Zion thought for a second. “Right. We need to show everyone how well we’ve done this year. Talk about our military progress and our growing influence. And lay out our goals for next year.”

The general nodded. “Understood.”

Meanwhile, the Strato Cannon slowly turned southeast. “Three minutes to firing,” a crewman announced. “Everyone, earplugs in! This is going to be loud!”

When it fired, the ground shook, and the air smelled like burnt metal. Then, silence, except for the fading echo. On a monitor, a satellite image showed a small tsunami rippling across the ocean.

“Well, that worked,” Zion said, watching the image. “A small tsunami. Nothing too serious. But we should keep an eye on it.”

Sima grinned. “Two birds with one stone. We showed Jozen what we’re capable of.”

Zion nodded, feeling pretty good about himself. “Exactly. That sent a clear message.”

One of the generals breathed out. “That was… intense.”

The crew member then said, “Ready to aim at the Altai Mountains, sir. To make a path for the rescue.”

“I can’t disagree,” Zion said, adrenaline still coursing. “Let’s not dwell on the past. We have the Strato Cannon prepared. It’s time to save our soldiers.”

 

Later at December 2404, we still with red head zion.  he met with his lieutenant, Keith, who had just returned from dealing with rebels in South America. “I heard the news,” Keith said, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re about to start World War IV, huh?”

 

Zion smiled slightly. “The news does spread quickly. Yes, it seems we’re at the brink of a major conflict. But I’m ready to handle it.”

 

Keith squinted. “Do you think it’s happening too quickly?”

 

Zion paused, contemplating. “I understand your concern. The situation is escalating rapidly, but we must take swift action when required. We can’t afford to hesitate.”

 

“I just hope you remember this isn’t an arena. When the game’s over, there won’t be any cheering crowd or judges to help us,” Keith warned.

 

Zion nodded. “You’re right. War is not a game. I take my decisions seriously, and I’m aware of their consequences. I’m committed to leading our forces to victory.”

 

“Understood. No regrets,” Keith replied, determination in his voice.

 

Zion leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips. “It seems we’re making good progress in the war,” he mused, surveying the control room bustling with activity. “The Northern and Middle Armies have secured most of the Altai region. This is a testament to our superiority over Alam. We won’t stop until we’ve claimed all his territory.”

But the atmosphere shifted dramatically one afternoon when reports of heavy fire erupted from the west sector. An avalanche, triggered by enemy artillery, blocked the route for Zion's forces.

 

Pausing, Zion’s expression hardened. “Heavy fire from the mountains? An avalanche? Alam is preparing a trap. But we won’t be fooled by such tricks. Let’s move quickly to secure the west sector and avoid the avalanche.”

 

His red general quickly interrupted, “Sir! Our soldiers are trapped in the Altai region. All routes are blocked!”

 

Zion nodded slowly, his mind racing. “We can’t leave them to be slaughtered. We must find a way to rescue them. Reinforcements must be sent immediately.”

 

“I’ll try to break through from the south,” General Sima offered, determination glinting in his eyes.

 

“Good thinking, General. You’re in charge of the southern breakthrough. Ensure your troops are well-supported and ready for a fight. I’ll coordinate the overall operation,” Zion replied, urgency creeping into his voice.

 

As they prepared, a tank commander’s voice crackled over the radio. “Sir, they’re attacking from the high ground. They’ve appeared out of nowhere, and we’re in a defensive position.”

 

“Damn,” Zion cursed. “A surprise attack? They’re trying to catch us off guard. We need to hold the line until we can regroup. No panic.”

 

Days passed, and just as General Sima’s efforts to break through faltered, a report came in. “The true horde’s tank division is nearing General Sima’s base, and our air strikes are doing little damage.”

 

Zion’s eyes narrowed. “We need to act quickly. If they surround him, we risk losing everything.”

 

The days that followed were a tense waiting game. Reports trickled in from Sima's position at the ancient prison mine, the Gulag. Each update was worse than the last. The True Horde was pressing hard, and Sima's men were running low on ammunition.

Then, Sima's strained face appeared on the main screen in the war room. "We're under heavy attack from the north," he reported, his voice tight. "We're dug in, but I don't know how long we can hold."

"We're sending reinforcements, General," Zion assured him, though the words felt hollow. "Hold on."

"One more thing," Sima added, his eyes flickering towards something off-screen. "We found an old map of a pre-war bunker… it looks like Alam might be hiding troops there."

Zion's eyes widened. "A bunker? Get that map to intelligence immediately."

 

“Of course,” Sima said, but just then, a gunshot rang out from the speaker. “Damn! They’ve found me!”

 

Concern gripped Zion. “General Sima, what was that? Did they find you? Your position is compromised?”

 

“I’m afraid so. I won’t let them capture me! Glory for the Red Nation!” Sima declared, and then the line went dead.

 

Gasps filled the command center as officers processed the shocking news. “Oh no, General Sima has shot himself.”

 

A flicker of darkness passed across Zion's eyes, quickly masked. He straightened his posture, the movement almost rigid. Zion’s gaze remained fixed on the map, his expression unchanging. “His sacrifice is commendable. We must honor his memory and carry on his legacy. Let’s focus on protecting the Red Nation and fulfilling his last wishes.”

 

A tense silence followed, broken only by the red officer’s grim report: “The base was overrun.”

 

Zion’s jaw clenched as he stared at the map. “Confirmed. General Sima and his troops have been captured or killed. The true horde has secured the base. This is a significant loss.”

 

After a long pause, a red general spoke up. “Let’s fire the Strato Cannon at Banyan -Ölgii. We can wipe out their attacking forces.”

 

Zion nodded quickly. “Yes! A strike on Banyan -Ölgii will inflict serious damage and disrupt their operations. Let’s prepare the Strato Cannon for immediate deployment.”

 

Moments later, the base of Banyan -Ölgii was buried under the cannon’s blast.

 

“Good kill! We’ve destroyed their tank division!” a red officer shouted, relief evident in his voice.

 

The corners of Zion's lips barely twitched upward. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Indeed! The Strato Cannon strike was effective. This will significantly disrupt their supply lines and operations. Let’s keep pushing them back to prevent the formation of another base.”

 

“Sir, we’ve received another call from Alam,” a red general reported.

 

“What does that kid want now? Let’s ignore him,” Zion replied, shaking his head.

 

But he reconsidered. “Actually, let’s hear what he has to say. He might offer an opportunity to end this war.”

 

Alam’s face appeared on the monitor, a smug grin plastered across his features. “We’ve spilled so much blood, haven’t we? How about a truce?”

 

Zion regarded him with interest. “A truce is appealing, Alam. What terms do you propose for ending this conflict?”

 

“Take Altai and the Black Sea, but I’ll keep my territory in China and Carpathia. Central Asia will be neutral under my government,” Alam stated confidently.

 

Zion hesitated, weighing the implications. “Your terms are reasonable. We can accept the truce under those conditions. But how do I know you won’t betray me again?”

 

“Good point,” Alam replied. “How can I trust you?”

 

Zion nodded. “We’ll create a monitoring agreement to ensure both sides uphold the truce. Inspection teams can verify compliance.”

 

“Hmm... do you really trust your inner circle after leading a failed invasion against a mere rebel like me?” Alam taunted.

 

Zion’s expression darkened. “No, I’ve realized my inner circle may not be as trustworthy as I thought. I must maintain tight control and increase surveillance over their activities.”

 

“Feeling lonely?” Alam pressed.

 

Zion hesitated. “Yes, I do feel lonely. I have no one I can truly trust. It’s a cold, isolating existence.”

 

“Cute. Your officers can hear you, you know,” Alam chuckled.

 

Zion shot him a glare. “I want them to hear. They need to understand that I’m not an infallible leader. I’m a mortal man, vulnerable to betrayal.”

 

Alam smirked. “What a revelation. I smell betrayal... Have a good New Year, Red Hair!”

 

Zion’s anger flared again. “You’ve identified the scent of betrayal in my circle. I will keep a closer watch on those around me.”

 

With that, the call ended abruptly.

 

Zion sighed deeply, turning to his officers. “It seems I must keep a closer eye on my inner circle. Their loyalty is in question. Let’s take the necessary steps to safeguard my power as the leader of the Red Nation.”

 

A red general spoke up, “We’ve been loyal to you since you took the throne, sir. Like General Sima, we will fight to the death!”

 

Zion smiled, bolstered by their commitment. “Thank you, General. I trust in your dedication. Together, we will defeat the True Horde and restore peace and prosperity to our nation.”

Chapter 63 A Moment Before the Storm

 

meanwhile in xian palace. “nyoohhh!” alam slam the fancy table. “they just blow up the whole fucking mountains to destroy my perfect maze..and my new tank brigade, we doomed”

 

but later on Alam received the news that the new tanks and Sima Yilin had been captured, and a wave of mixed emotion washed over him.

 

“well.. i think its a good trade” he sigh, then alam had sense its was good time messing zion. then he contacting zion same like previous chapter.

 

So The advanced tanks posed a serious threat, especially since he still lacked effective weapons and tactics to counter the formidable Buffalo tanks. Meanwhile, the Red Nation was already rolling out their own new tanks. Alam quickly ordered the captured tanks to be researched, hoping for some reverse engineering magic to give them an edge.

 

As the chaos of winter warfare escalated, the Yellow Nation sent their own tanks to support Alam. While their European tanks weren't as advanced as the Buffalo tanks, they still offered a glimmer of hope, especially since the Yellow Nation hadn’t fully committed yet.

 

Back in the hidden lit subterranean city filled by dolls, Alam’s expression shifted from determination to concern.

 

“Hey, how’s the progress?” he asked, stepping into the room.

 

Croque was hard at work, surrounded by a mountain of blueprints and diagrams. She looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Ah, you’re back! I’m almost finished with the mud launcher prototype design. It’s coming along nicely!”

 

“Really? Can it be produced yet?” Alam inquired, leaning in with interest.

 

“Yes! I can start manufacturing the prototype, but we need to test it first to ensure it works as expected. There are still some details to iron out, like the mud delivery system and how to activate the mixture. It’ll take some time, but I’m confident we can produce a working prototype soon,” Croque explained.

 

“Alright, let’s try the prototype first,” Alam decided, eager to see it in action.

 

“Sure! This should be interesting,” Croque replied, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “I’ve been so focused on the design that I didn’t think about testing it before. Today will be the first field test.”

 

“Let me be your guest,” Alam said, grinning.

 

Croque nodded, her excitement bubbling. “Let’s do it! I can’t wait to see how it performs.”

 

“Can you tell me the specifications?” Alam asked, eyeing the prototype on her desk.

 

Croque explained, “The mud launcher is modeled after an RPG. It delivers a mud mixture propelled by a pressure release mechanism. The mixture is designed to clog tank barrels, effectively jamming them. It has an estimated range of about 100 meters.”

 

“Seems beautiful! It’s actually pretty light—around 10 to 15 kg,” Alam said, resting the launcher on his shoulder.

 

Croque watched, pleased with the design. “Yes, it should be a formidable weapon against enemy tanks.”

 

“Let’s see how accurate it is,” Alam said, pointing the weapon at an empty hall.

 

“Agreed! This is the first time we’ll actually fire it,” Croque said, her anticipation palpable.

 

“Fire in the hole!” Alam pulled the trigger.

 

The launcher fired a projectile that exploded on impact, filling the hall with a thick cloud of mud. The result was impressive; the mud spread quickly, clogging the area. After a few seconds, it hardened, blocking the hall completely.

 

“Wow, what’s this black stuff?” Alam asked, moving toward the impact area.

 

The solidified mud was dark and sticky, resembling thick sludge. Croque looked puzzled. “That shouldn’t be there. The mixture was just soil and chemicals.”

 

“Is it toxic? Should I wear a mask?” Alam asked, concern creeping into his voice.

 

Croque’s eyes widened. “It was supposed to be harmless! I’m not sure what this is…”

 

“Do I need to worry about your mute? Do you need batteries or something?” Alam joked, trying to lighten the mood.

 

Croque chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not a robot! I’m just a bit puzzled by this unexpected outcome. We should continue testing to see what else this prototype might do.”

 

“Too bad I don’t know the aftereffects of this stuff. But I think we can start producing the launcher. Let’s aim for 100 units with 2,000 rounds to start,” Alam concluded.

 

“Sounds good!” Croque agreed, her enthusiasm returning.

 

Meanwhile at surface, Nalin relished her day off from training, taking a well-deserved break to unwind. She checked her personal communication device and noticed a message from Alam. A flicker of curiosity sparked within her, quickly transforming into excitement as she read his words.

 

“Hello, dear Alam! It’s been too long since we last spoke. I’m excited and curious to catch up! What do you want to talk about this time?”

 

Moments later, Alam replied, inquiring about her training.

 

Nalin’s smile widened as she typed back, “My training is going really well! I’m getting more comfortable with the environment and terrain. My time spent hunting in the taiga has really helped me. I feel more confident in my skills to assist on any mission you need me for!”

 

Alam’s next message flickered onto her screen, and she sensed a shift in tone. “I see... but I want you to… not participate. Heh.”

 

A wave of worry washed over her. then she call alam, her voice is genuine confuse “Wait... what? What do you mean?”

 

“War is unpredictable. Something bad may happen,” Alam warned, his words heavy with foreboding.

 

Nalin felt her heart sink. “Yeah, I know. But are you saying bad things could happen in battle or here at the base?”

 

“Perhaps. I just hope the war ends soon,” he replied.

 

Relief washed over her, and she whispered softly, “I’m hoping for that too. It’s been a long, grueling fight, and I’m getting tired. The thought of peace eases the burden on my heart.”

 

“Yeah, at least in our minds, we find peace,” Alam said,

 

Nalin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. “I wish for real peace too. I’m sick of the fighting and the killing. I just want it all to end so we can live without the constant threat of war.”

 

“I know,” Alam said sympathetically but he know he cant stop her. “But don’t be a hero in battle. Stick to the middle, and if the enemy is too many, just run.” he pause for a long moment and type “It’s okay to surrender”

 

Nalin’s disappointment was palpable. “So what you’re saying is if we’re outnumbered, it’s better to surrender than to fight to the death? its. sound not patriotic”

 

alam sigh “Ultimately, it’s up to you. But the idea of living a little longer isn’t bad, you know?”

 

She pondered his words, her mind racing. “I see... I want to live longer too. I never considered surrender until now, but maybe it’s the best option if it means survival.”

 

“Yes, this winter war is cruel, but it teaches us to appreciate life more,” Alam offered.

 

Nalin’s heart sank again. “Yes, it’s really cruel. Each battle is filled with blood and death. But at the end of the day, all this suffering is supposed to lead to peace

 

“Yeah...” Alam replied softly.

 

As silence fell between them,

 

“Now that I think about it, this war isn’t just about death and cruelty. It’s forced us to appreciate every moment,” Nalin said thoughtfully.

 

“Funny how that works,” Alam chuckled, the tension easing.

 

Nalin giggled in response. “Yes! It’s not just a bloody war; it’s a lesson in cherishing life. Who would’ve thought?”

 

“I’ll miss you,” Alam said, the sudden seriousness in his voice catching Nalin off guard.

 

She fell silent, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

 

“Yes... Train hard and fight smart. You’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

 

As his words sank in, Nalin sniffled quietly. The thought of losing Alam felt like a heavy weight in her chest. “I promise I’ll work hard and fight smart. After that, we’ll part ways, and this might be my last goodbye.”

 

“Why do you talk like one of us will die?” Alam teased lightly,

 

“Please don’t say that! What if it’s you who ends up dying instead? What if I’m the only one who survives?” Nalin whispered, anxiety creeping into her voice.

 

“Only Gott knows what’s next. All we can do now is pray,” Alam said, his tone softening.

 

Nalin nodded slowly, a sense of solemnity settling between them. “Yes, praying seems to be all we can do right now. Regardless of what happens, I’m glad the war is slowly coming to an end. At least it won’t be as dangerous as before.”

 

“Yeah, take care,” Alam said softly. He paused, then added, trying to lighten the mood, "Hey, have you tried that new ration bar? The one with the… dehydrated apples? It's not half bad." then to ease her feeling. alam shift conversation into more mundane one. talking about her dialy life and stuff

As the war raged on, things were getting messy. Manchuria and Central Asia were turning into a real bloodbath. The Red Nation's giant Strato Cannon was smashing True Horde tanks left and right, but the True Horde wasn't just taking it. They were hitting back hard, messing up the Red Army's plans and causing serious trouble. It was a real back-and-forth slugfest.

While everyone was focused on the fighting in Central Asia, the Jozen pirates were getting bolder. Remember that tsunami the Strato Cannon caused in the Pacific? Yeah, that wrecked one of their underwater cities. So, they decided to return the favor by raiding Zion's ports and coastal towns. Villages were getting hit hard – people either killed on the spot or dragged off as slaves. Down in Mexico, Zion's ground forces had taken over the whole region and were pushing south, trying to link up with their allies, the Crimson Eagle, in the Amazon. Speaking of the Amazon, La Buse and his submarine were cruising around, causing chaos and attacking any settlements they came across.

And over in what used to be Britain, things were even weirder. With the sea levels rising, Britain was now just a bunch of islands. The Yellow Nation was using those islands as a giant shield, trying to stop Zion's mercenaries from landing. Their coastal guns were firing non-stop, trying to take down the swarms of launch pods Zion was using to ferry his troops and his vassal nations. It was a total free-for-all.

"Fang," Alam said, leaning back in his chair, "there's this big world conference at the end of the year. I'm not going. You go in my place. Tell everyone what's happening here, remind them the Red Nation isn't unstoppable."

"Sure thing," Fang replied, nodding. "The world needs to know the True Horde isn't backing down. But why aren't you going yourself?"

Alam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I really don't want to be in the same room with Zion right now."

Fang gave him a knowing look. "I get it. He's… intense. But this isn't just about avoiding him. This summit is about all the important stuff happening globally. Skipping it could cost us a seat at the table."

"Yeah, you're right," Alam admitted, rubbing his chin. "We've got the Golden Caravan and the Shangri-La Confederation on our side. They see us as a buffer against the Red Nation, so they’ll probably back us up. But I'm not holding my breath for help from anyone too far away."

"I understand that," Fang said. "Relying on distant allies is always risky, especially with things this crazy. But going to the conference is a chance to show the world we're united. It could help us build stronger alliances and prove the True Horde is a force to be reckoned with."

Alam chuckled, a genuine smile finally appearing on his face. "Alright, I trust you, Fang. You always know what to do."

"Thanks sir. I’ll do everything I can to represent the True Horde and get our message across. We need to rally support if we want to win this," Fang replied, his voice firm.

Alam nodded slowly, his gaze drifting towards a map of the world. The lines of conflict crisscrossed the continents, a stark reminder of the widespread chaos. He looked back at Fang, a flicker of something darker in his eyes. "Well then… may Gott bless us," he said, his voice low. "Because it feels like we're all standing on the edge of a cliff."