While the scorching sun beat down on the desolate plateau, a thick layer of mist rose from the ground, concealing the treacherous terrain. Once a flourishing forest teeming with life, the area now stood as a harsh reminder of the destruction wrought by war. The Replord Empire and the Ford Anatist Kingdom had been locked in a bitter struggle for control over this contested borderland for years.

In the midst of this barren wasteland, a dark horde marched forward. Thousands of shadowy figures moved in unison, their movements fluid and purposeful. They were an imposing sight, a veritable sea of darkness that seemed to swallow up everything in its path.

As they drew closer, the sound of their footsteps grew louder, echoing across the desolate landscape. And then, as if by some unspoken command, they halted. For a moment, the only sound was the soft rustle of sand being kicked up by the wind.

Each of them wore a purple military uniform, carrying a rifle on their back. Walking in the middle of the desert during the hot weather with such heavy stuff was no different from torment. However, the soldiers' expressions showed the opposite.

The ground beneath their toes felt like molten lava, but their excitement and energy overshadowed any discomfort they felt.

With a fierce determination burning within them, the soldiers sang a marching song in unison, their voices echoing across the barren landscape.

March, march, march! We are one!

The words rang out like a battle cry.

We are the imperial army!

Their voices rose with each passing verse.

Brave, mighty, indomitable!

Glory to our lord!

Long live Komodo!

Long live Lizardwar!

The soldiers' spirits were high, bolstered by the thought of victory and the glory that awaited them. Their chants grew louder and more fervent as they envisioned crushing their enemies beneath their feet.

Slaughter them! Crush them all!

Drink their blood! Eat their flesh!

Ignite them!

They chanted, their words filled with a bloodthirsty fervour.

As they continued their march, the soldiers were accompanied by three mobile rocket launchers. The heavy machinery rolled forward, its wheels sinking into the sand with each turn.

But their progress was interrupted by a sudden cry ringing across the desolate plateau. It was a voice of authority, a Lizardwar in a green uniform with a nametag reading "Colonel Terist."

The Colonel peered through his binoculars, scanning the area with a watchful eye. And then, he saw it: a small village nestled in the distance.

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A cruel smile spread across his lips. "A perfect target to test our missiles," he said, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Soldier! Ready to launch. Each one, one missile!"

The soldiers hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. The Colonel was known for his ruthless tactics, and they knew that his orders would not be questioned.

When they prepared to carry out his bidding, a lone figure stepped forward. She was a young woman, her face etched with determination, and her eyes shining with a fierce resolve.

"Stop!" she cried out, "You cannot do this! These people already had a hard life"

Terist sneered, turning his gaze upon her. "And what of it?" he spat. "They are but rats to be crushed under our boots. We have a greater purpose, a destiny to fulfil."

But the woman was undeterred. "No," she said firmly. "Our destiny is not one of destruction and despair. We must-"

But the woman was undeterred. She stood tall and strong, her courage unwavering in the face of his hostility. "No," she said firmly. "Our destiny is not one of destruction and despair. We must-"

BOOM!

Before she could finish her sentence, a deafening explosion rocked the ground. For a moment, the woman stood there, stunned, as blood began to trickle down her forehead.

She fell to the ground, her body motionless and lifeless, as the soldiers around her watched in horror. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and gunpowder, and the sound of distant screams filled the silence.

“I don’t have time for this shit. Ready your position!”

The soldiers fanned out, their movements were precise as they took up their positions around the small village. The villagers huddled together in terror, their faces etched with fear and desperation as they knew they were completely at the mercy of their attackers.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the air, the sharp cracks of bullets cutting through the silence like thunder. Screams of agony and terror pierced through the chaotic scene, drowning out any other sounds.

The colonel watched the carnage unfold with a cold detachment, his eyes glinting with a twisted sense of amusement. To him, this was all just a game, a way to prove his power and dominance over those weaker than him. He raised his pistol to the sky, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he revelled in the chaos and destruction.

The air was filled with the stench of smoke and blood, and the ground was littered with the broken bodies of men, women, and children. The colonel's soldiers showed no mercy, their weapons firing relentlessly as they advanced through the village. Their faces were masked with fierce bloodthirst, their eyes cold and unfeeling as they carried out their orders.

The villagers fought back as best they could, their weapons no match for the firepower of the soldiers. They knew that their chances of survival were slim, but they refused to go down without a fight. As the battle raged on around them, they clung to the hope that somehow, someway, they might emerge victorious.

But their hopes were in vain. The soldiers were too strong, too well-trained, and too determined to let anything stand in their way. Terist's laughter rang out like a twisted symphony.

"This is what it means to be strong," he shouted over the noise of the gunfire. "This is what it means to be a conqueror. This is a truly Komodo legacy!"

The colonel's gunshot triggered the ending of this bloodshed. As the rockets rained down upon the village, everything was obliterated in an instant. The structures that had once stood tall were now reduced to rubble and dust, and the villagers who had once called this place home were now nothing but lifeless bodies strewn across the hot sand.

The colonel stood amidst the devastation, his laughter now replaced by a look of grim satisfaction. To him, this was just another successful mission, another display of power and domination.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a young soldier approached him tentatively. "Sir," he said, his voice shaking. "What do we do now?"

Terist sighed heavily. He knew that they couldn't afford to stop now, not after everything they had sacrificed to get this far. But at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were headed down a dangerous path.

"We continue," he said finally, his voice firm. "We continue on our mission, and we do whatever it takes to achieve victory."

The soldier nodded, his face grim. They all knew what that meant. More destruction, more death, and more sacrifices.

As the army marched forward once again, leaving the woman's body behind, Terist felt a sense of unease. He knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult and that the price of victory would be steep. The colonel was determined to see it through to the end, no matter what the cost.

"Next destination, Ford Anatist!"