Nara was hiding in what was left of a fancy old bathhouse, a hammam, near the center of old Tehran. Dust was everywhere, and the air smelled sweet and rotten, with a bit of metal mixed in. Sunlight came through big holes in the roof, making long shadows on the floor covered in broken bits. This place used to be beautiful, but now it was just a shelter for people hurt in the war. You could still hear gunfire outside.
She tightened her grip on her gun, and she started thinking about the academy. That’s where she’d made friends and dreamed about the future. She met Sarah there—someone really strong and determined. They’d trained together, wanting to make the world a better place. But now, that future was as broken as the walls around her.
“Nara?” a voice said.
Nara’s heart jumped. She turned and saw Sarah coming out of the shadows, wearing sniper gear. She felt a mix of relief, happy memories, and a pang of guilt.
“Sarah,” Nara breathed, managing a weak smile. “You look… surprisingly well-adjusted for someone fighting a chemical-induced zombie apocalypse.”
“Neither did I,” Sarah replied, concern etched on her face. “You look… different.”
Nara hesitated, the weight of her past pressing down. “I’ve changed. We all have.” She gestured to the destruction. “This war… it changes you.”
“I know,” Sarah said, her voice steady. “But I’m still fighting. I’m still trying to make a difference.” There was a fire in her eyes that Nara admired but envied.
“Are you?” Nara challenged, sharper than intended. “Are we really making a difference, or just prolonging the inevitable? Look at this place.” She waved her hand at the crumbling walls. “We’re fighting for a city that’s already lost.”
Sarah’s expression hardened, tension crackling between them. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve lost friends, Nara. But I can’t give up. Not now.”
Guilt washed over Nara. She had distanced herself from the fight, while Sarah remained steadfast. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know you didn’t,” Sarah interrupted, her voice softening. “But you need to understand we’re all fighting our own battles. You’ve chosen a different path, and that’s okay. Just don’t forget who you are.”
Nara’s heart ached. She had buried her past, convinced that detachment was survival. But facing Sarah, she felt her armor cracking. “I’m scared, Sarah. Scared of what I’ve become. Every day feels like a struggle.”
“Then let me help you,” Sarah said, stepping closer. “We can fight together. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Nara searched Sarah’s face. “What if I’m not the same person you remember? What if I’m lost?”
“Then we’ll find you,” Sarah said, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re still Nara. The girl who wanted to be a hero? That’s still you, deep down.”
A tiny spark of hope flickered in Nara’s chest. Maybe she didn’t have to face this alone. “I want to believe that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Sarah’s face softened into a smile. “Then let’s do it. One step at a time. Together.”
A feeling of warmth washed over Nara. Standing there in the ruined bathhouse with Sarah, it felt like reconnecting with a part of herself she’d thought was gone. She knew it would be a hard road, but with Sarah there…
Sarah started telling Nara about her past in Mexico. "Zion invited our leaders—we were fighting local bandits on his border—and called us 'Holy Warriors.' Twenty years later, he invades and annexes us. Suddenly, we're 'terrorists.'"
"Classic," someone chuckled. "When they're on your side, they're freedom fighters. When they're not, they're terrorists. Western media 101."
Just then, Patrick was suddenly escorted to the med tent. Everyone followed, Nara and Sarah included.
Patrick tried to get up from the cot after a quick check. “I’m fine.” The medic, unimpressed, placed an oxygen mask on him and continued the examination. A star symbol was visible on Patrick’s chest.
“A star on the chest… that’s to remind you where you belong,” Sarah commented. Her gaze drifted down to his mechanical legs, where the same star was tattooed on his knees. “But when it’s on the knees… that’s a different story.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s about not kneeling before anyone’s law.”
Patrick just smiled faintly.
Far to the southeast, under the cover of darkness, another operation was starting. The rumble of tank engines echoed across the Kavir Desert. Hazel, poking her head out of her tank’s turret, watched the distant flashes over Tehran. It looked like the fighting there was still heavy.
The council had been pushing them hard to attack the enemy base at Varamin, so Hazel and Serpent were getting ready to move. Hazel had a plan to flank them from the southeast, a long trek across the desert. Her Buffalo tanks were in a wedge formation—old but reliable—with Tetsuya’s faster Strider tanks behind them, like the tip of an arrow.
As they drove across the desert night, Serpent saw flashes of light in the distance and heard the faint rumble of explosions from Tehran. The Red Nation was still attacking, bringing in the new year of 2406 with chaos.
By midnight, Serpent’s forces were close to Varamin. They passed a small town where people were trying to celebrate with fireworks—a strange, quiet contrast to what was about to happen. Hazel ordered a halt. “Let’s check everything before we go in,” she said, looking towards the distant explosions.
Back inside her tank, she glanced at her crew. Yu was in the back. Anyone could see Hazel was tense. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Even after leading so many attacks, every mission made her hands shake.
“Serpent, move out… Fire at will,” she said, her voice steady but serious. “No mercy.” She cut the radio and gave the order to attack.
Serpent’s tanks rolled into the town, targeting any house with lights on, destroying them. They also took out parked military vehicles and other important spots. In ten minutes, the town was quiet, like no one had ever lived there.
“Keep the formation!” Hazel yelled, making sure everyone stayed in line even with all the chaos. “We’re pushing hard to the main target!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
As they got closer to Varamin, Hazel saw an enemy Buffalo tank on the edge of the base. “Hah! Another tank battle!” she shout. “Tetsuya, take your Striders and go around it!”
With the Serpent attacking first, they filled the air with fire and smoke. However, their initial assault had little effect; the enemy tank returned fire with surprising resilience.
“Damn it! We’re forced into a fair fight! But with our upgrades, we’re slightly more nimble. Aim for their tracks!” Hazel shouted, taking aim at the enemy’s thermal imaging system, hoping to blind them in the heat of battle.
As the enemy tank stopped firing, Hazel grinned. “That’s it! They’re blinded. Order the sappers to take them out!”
The Strider tanks enveloped the Buffalo, while Hazel’s crew laid down suppressing fire. The enemy tank was now trapped, facing an intense situation as sappers dismounted from their motorized bikes, crawling toward the enemy tank with explosives strapped to their backs.
When the detonation occurred, a pillar of flame erupted from the Buffalo’s hatch—a terrifying spectacle amidst the chaos.
“Yu! Record this! Quick, bring your camera!” Hazel commanded, urgency in her voice.
Yu nodded, quickly pulling out her camera and capturing the devastation—the burning tanks, the chaos—an important record of the brutal battle.
With a brief respite to check for any surviving enemy forces, they pressed on toward Varamin, attacking any suspected hiding places of enemy troops with ruthless efficiency.
“This raid is successful. Now head west. Let’s get out of here. Loose formations! Watch for mines along the roads!” Hazel ordered, their path clear but fraught with danger.
By 2:00 AM, they’d crossed the Qanbarabad Wetlands, a swampy area that didn’t seem like a good place for the enemy to hide. Hazel had been smart to take this tough route instead of the paved roads, which were probably covered in mines.
But just when they thought they were in the clear, an enemy airstrike hit one of the Buffalo tanks, messing up its tracks. “Destroy it! Keep moving!” Hazel ordered, her voice calm.
After a long, hard drive, Serpent’s force reached Eslamshahr by morning, with only a few minor injuries. They’d done what they were supposed to, but the council immediately told them to head for central Tehran. The Red Army was close to taking the whole city. Hazel’s face tightened.
“City fighting… worst case scenario,” she muttered, a bad memory flashing through her mind—the Wanderer Force’s attack on Hong Kong, and how the Flying Dragon clan was wiped out. Ah, yes, urban warfare. The perfect blend of claustrophobia, exploding debris, and the constant threat of being sniped from a MC Donald. Just what she’d always dreamed of.
As they drove along the road, they kept their heads down, dodging falling rocks and pieces of buildings. The constant explosions and bullets made bits of brick and stone rain down around them.
They reached a bridge and spotted enemy tanks. Hazel’s heart pounded. They were going to have to fight. “Some of you, protect the area under the bridge! Don’t let them come at us from the sides!” she yelled, knowing how important it was to hold that position.
The fighting got much worse as they entered central Tehran. Enemy bombs were falling all around the air defense guns in the park, and Serpent’s tanks had to fight hard to defend themselves.
“We’re sitting ducks here, but we’ll get blown to bits if we don’t find cover! This is going to be tough…” Hazel said to herself, quickly trying to think of a plan.
She ordered the tanks to hide among the ruins—broken walls, fallen trees, anything they could use. “Only shoot at the big targets—don’t waste ammo on the regular soldiers,” she told them, knowing how dangerous things were.
The explosions were incredibly loud, a constant reminder of how much danger they were in. The crew held on tight, waiting for the battle to start.
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, a signal pierced the static of the global comms network. In a hidden pre-Collapse bunker deep within Siberia, Alam oversaw the activation of a recovered quantum computing core. His engineers, using schematics salvaged from a captured Red Nation data-server in a former Gulag, had finally managed to bypass the bunker’s security protocols. This ancient technology, capable of near-instantaneous communication across vast distances and bypassing even the most sophisticated encryption, was about to change the course of the war. Alam used it to contact Jozen. Despite Jozen in isolated Pacific Ocean in cloaked aircraft carrier, the quantum link bypassed all conventional systems.
In the command center, Jozen sat calmly at his desk, watching the chaos unfold on a big screen. He seemed completely unaffected by everything that was happening.
“Hey, Blue Hair, why’s your pirate attacking the Crescent Alliance’s supply lines?” Alam’s voice came through the intercom, sounding worried.
Jozen leaned back in his chair, not bothered at all. “He’s just doing what I told him. He’s supposed to mess up their supplies and cause as much trouble as possible. He’s a good captain—smart and ruthless. I know he’ll get it done.”
Alam sighed, getting more frustrated. “Come on! We need to focus on beating the Red Nation, not attacking random people.”
Jozen paused, thinking about what Alam had said. He looked at the chaotic scenes on the screen. “If we destroy the Red Nation completely, it’ll cause even more chaos. The big powers need to stay balanced. If they all start destroying each other, things will get really bad.”
“But isn’t this chaos better than massive chaos?” Alam countered, his voice rising slightly.
Jozen nodded, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “You have a point there. But I still believe that keeping the current situation in check is preferable.”
“Then help the Emerald League! Destroy Red Nation’s air dominance!” Alam urged, his tone almost pleading in mask of boldness.
Jozen considered the request, weighing the potential consequences. “I will think about it. I need to consult my advisors and assess the situation carefully before making a decision.”
“Yeah… heh,” Alam replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.
Jozen chuckled, a lightness breaking through the tension. “You’re quite the cheerful one, Alam. It’s refreshing amidst all this political maneuvering.”
“Sure! If the world stage were filled with boring people, no one would read this story,” Alam quipped, grinning.
“True enough,” Jozen laughed. “The world is full of self-important folks. It’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously.”
“So, what’s your endgame? You want to conquer the world too?” Alam asked, a playful glint in his eye.
Jozen smiled at the question, amusement dancing across his features. “My goal is to bring peace to this world. It may sound idealistic, but I truly believe it’s possible. I envision a united world working towards a shared purpose for humanity—where conflict is replaced by cooperation.”
“Good! You’re a bit like Zion, but more handsome,” Alam teased.
Jozen laughed heartily at the compliment. “That’s quite kind of you. Zion and I share goals, but our methods differ. I prefer understanding and compassion over domination.”
“Ha! Good. Now destroy their airfield. Time is ticking,” Alam urged, the urgency returning to his voice.
Jozen nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. He moved swiftly to his desk, making calls and issuing commands. The Blue Nation's naval forces began to mobilize toward Red Nation’s airports and bases. Jozen's gaze remained fixed on the screen as the forces approached their targets.
“You seem impulsive. How old are you?” Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.
Jozen chuckled lightly. “I’m much older than I look. My age isn’t important; I’ve lived through several lifetimes of experience—an ancient warrior who’s seen many battles, including the Great War and The Great Flood.”
“I see. I must meet your plastic surgeon!” Alam shot back, laughter bubbling in his voice.
Jozen roared with laughter. “Good luck with that! I doubt any surgeon can turn back time. My longevity is a testament to all the struggles I’ve endured. Wisdom and experience trump any doctor’s skills. Besides, who says I even want to be younger?”
“Do you still consider yourself human?” Alam pressed.
Jozen shrugged. “That depends on your definition of ‘human.’ I’m still organic, but I’ve experienced more than most. My existence is an anomaly. I’ve lived for centuries, so my perception of reality is quite different. Am I still human? I’m not sure.”
“Hm, I hope that after the war ends, I can meet you in person again. I want to pinch your cheek—my punch wasn’t hard enough yesterday!” Alam said,
Jozen laughed again. “If you really want to do that, we can arrange it after the war. But I warn you, my cheek isn’t as soft as it looks. I’m still a warrior.”
“Good! Me too… kind of. Farewell!” Alam replied, his tone lightening.
“Farewell. Let’s meet again when the wars are over,” Jozen said, smiling as he ended the call.
Suddenly, the night sky over Tehran was ripped apart by streaks of cerulean light. High-altitude interceptors, their sleek, delta-winged forms unlike anything the Emerald League had seen before, descended from the stratosphere. They fired bursts of energy weapons, vaporizing Red Army fighter jets in mid-air, leaving only trails of ionized particles in their wake. A message crackled over the comms: “This is the Blue Nation banger. We are here to enforce the peace.”
Jozen then look at ruan mei hologram ai behind him “i think we should develop the red mist cure.. you the one who make it.. so.. please, double times the effort”
Ruan mei hologram turn into grin “im just your ai slave now.. so there is nothing i can do except follow your order isnt?”
Jozen nod “you better do it. or i remove your sarcastic personality on your ai”
Ruan mei laugh “oh. i know you like my personality.. anyway.. since im just collection memory of her. i only represent 80% of true knowledge. so.. expect about backlash it later!”