The victory at Xian and Beijing echoed across the land, but Alam knew it was only one battle in a much larger war. As his forces consolidated their hold on the city, reports continued to trickle in about the Red Nation's growing power. Their expansion into Asia, the whispers of a new super weapon—it was clear they were a force to be reckoned with. This wasn't just a regional conflict anymore; the tremors of a larger global struggle were beginning to be felt.
the world was still super unstable, like one wrong move and boom.
One day, on a supply run, Alam went back to Carpathia to see Carmelita the black veil woman. He then showed up holding food. “Hey, you gotta try this Xian food. It’s nyumy!”
Carmelita looked up, a little surprised. She glanced at the food. “Xian food? Never had it.”
“Good,” Alam said, plopping down in front of her. “Eat it. Hehe.”
She lift up her mask took a small bite, her eyes widening. “Hmm, this is… actually nyumy. You weren’t kidding.”
“Yep,” Alam grinned. “Cute, right?”
Carmelita rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. “Cute? That’s the best you could do?”
Alam shifted his chair and leaned on her shoulder.
She stiffened a bit, surprised and a little annoyed, but didn’t push him away. “You’re getting way too comfortable.”
“You don’t mind, do you?” Alam asked.
“No, I don’t mind,” she mumbled, sounding a little irritated, but she didn’t move.
“Good,” Alam said.
She huffed again, trying to hide that she was secretly enjoying it. After a pause, Alam asked, “Tell me… do you think what we’re doing is actually stopping the war? Or are we just making things worse?”
Carmelita’s expression turned serious. She looked off in the distance, thinking. “I wish I knew. Preventing war is complicated. Sometimes we help. Other times… it feels like we’re just adding fuel to the fire.”
“Humans,” Alam sighed.
Carmelita nodded. “Yeah, humans. Always fighting. It’s like we never learn. We never figure out how to just live in peace.”
“Yep, take that human!,” Alam agreed, then suddenly poked her nose.
“Hey!” Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. “What was that for? I’m not some toy!”
“Sorry,” Alam said. “You seem stressed.”
“Of course I’m stressed,” she said. “Have you looked at the world lately? It’s a mess. Wars and chaos everywhere.”
“So,” Alam said, “even someone as elite as you gets stressed?”
Carmelita scoffed. “Of course I do. I’m not a robot. I’m good at what I do, but I’m still human.”
“Oh, right.” Alam sat up and opened another box of food, showing her dumplings and a kind of meat sandwich. “It’s called Roujiamo.”
Carmelita looked at the food, curious. “Roujiamo? Never seen that before. Looks… interesting.”
“Yep,” Alam said. “Don’t women like to eat when they’re in a bad mood?”
Carmelita huffed, a mix of annoyance and amusement in her eyes. “You can’t just stereotype all women. But yeah, some do.”
“Good,” Alam said. “Eat up. Get fat.”
Carmelita rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to ‘get fat’ from one meal. I have self-control. And watch your tone, or I’ll feed this to the dogs.”
“No, please,” Alam pleaded. “I came all the way from China to bring this to you, not some random dogs.”
Carmelita huffed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Fine. I won’t feed it to the dogs. Only because you brought it for me.” Alam leaned back in his chair, watching her.
She picked up a Roujiamo and took a bite, her expression softening. “Mmm… This is delicious. I can see why you were boasting.”
“Halal boasting,” Alam corrected with a grin.
Carmelita nodded, taking another bite. “For once, I’ll allow it. This is good enough to be arrogant about.”
“So, usually I’m not allowed to boast?” Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.
She huffed a small laugh. “Generally speaking, no. But this is an exception. Don’t get used to it.”
“What’s the difference between being confident and just showing off?” Alam wondered.
Carmelita considered this, her brow furrowing slightly. “Confidence is believing in your abilities. Showing off, or bragging, is trying to make yourself look better than others. It’s about intent. Confidence comes from within, bragging is for external validation.”
“Intent… how do I read other people’s intentions?”
She smirked. “You’re starting to sound like a spy. But… look for clues. Body language, tone, eye contact, their word choices.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I meet a lot of weirdos on my adventures.”
Carmelita nodded. “Just remember to stay vigilant.” She studied him for a moment. “You know, for someone who’s traveled the world, you’re surprisingly… naive.”
Alam grinned. “Heheh. Then I’m successfully… um… hiding my facade?”
She rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Yes, yes. You’re very good at masking your true nature. But I’ve noticed a few things.”
“Oho? Like what?”
Carmelita’s smirk widened. “Well, for starters, you’re far more observant than you let on. You act carefree, but there’s more going on beneath the surface. You’re not as transparent as you want people to believe.”
“Nyoohhh… I’m an innocent boy,” Alam said, feigning innocence.
She rolled her eyes again. “Oh, please. No one who’s seen as much as you has can claim to be innocent.”
Alam met her gaze” yes. im innocent if facing about future.. no matter how many prediction i make about what come next.. gott always surprise me”
Carmelita nodded, a hint of respect in her eyes. “That’s a good mindset to have. The world is full of surprises. Just when you think you have it figured out…”
Carmelita’s words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the vastness of the task ahead. While Alam shared a brief respite with Carmelita, the war machine continued to grind on. Thousands of miles to the east,
To dodge the Blue Nation pirates, Zion decided to relocate the entire factory from the Bering Strait to Asia. With that move, the Red Nation officially expanded its territory overseas. Meanwhile, the New World Council (NWC) was too busy squabbling among themselves. It was clear the Red Nation was bending the rules, but they shot back with their classic line: “The Blood Khaganate has the right to defend themselves, and we’re just maintaining peace.” Classic political mumbo jumbo for the media – the kind that made even seasoned diplomats roll their eyes
The portrayal of the NWC suggests a level of incompetence reminiscent of its predecessor, the United Nations. The White Nation, with its advanced technology, appears to be the only stabilizing force keeping the major nations together. However, despite the absence of direct clashes among these nations, the question remains: how long can this fragile peace last?
The Blood Khaganate resorted to mass recruitment. Among these new recruits were Hazel, who later will rise to become a skilled tank commander, and Panji, who carved a path as a swift infantry leader. The Red Nation brought in a new super weapon called the Buffalo tank—a 150-ton beast with twin cannons. It was slow but deadly, aiming to march to Europe and crush anything in its path, including the True Horde.
Hazel was born female, but in her society, men were favored. To fit in and be treated equally, she acted like a man. Even before World War III, the region faced gender inequality. Young girls were often seen as burdens, destined to be sold off, while boys were groomed to inherit family fortunes. In this post-apocalyptic world, such practices still ran rampant, especially with the introduction of "wind-up girls." This explained why more egalitarian societies like the Blood Khaganate or True Horde were more powerful compared to local warlords. Many people view these groups as a ticket to a more liberated society, especially in contrast to the oppressive norms they have experienced.
and To blend in, Hazel wore a special bodysuit to hide her curves and bribed her way through the corrupt Khaganate border. As a man, she joined the war against the True Horde. and she even not change her name. “Hazel it is” the border guard give her the id after receive amount of money behind her document
In June 2404, the air in Manchuria was thick with anticipation, the scent of gasoline mingling with the vibrant greens of the landscape. Lush vegetation and blooming flowers danced in the gentle breeze, starkly contrasting the dark, blackened earth of the Blood Khaganate workshop, which looked like a charcoal stain on an artist's canvas.
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The garage buzzed with the clattering of machinery, but the real spectacle was a new arrival from the Red Nation—a monstrous war machine of a tank. Its twin cannons jutted skyward like petrified tree trunks. A plume of smoke curled lazily from its hatch, momentarily obscuring the figure that clambered out.
As the smoke cleared, a shock of fiery orange hair burst forth, topped with a pair of goggles that seemed to wink mischievously in the fading sunlight.
“Oh, so you’re the new shield meat?” Yu giggled, her laughter brightening the grim atmosphere as she leaned against the tank.
From behind the colossal machine, a figure emerged, looking like he had stepped straight out of a steampunk fantasy. A jaunty top hat adorned with brass gears perched atop his head, casting playful shadows across his face. He adjusted the scabbard strapped to his hip with a flourish, revealing a confident grin.
“Patrick, at your service! Welcome to the team!” he declared, tipping his hat with a flamboyant gesture.
“Hello, Patrick. Hmm… do we know each other?” Hazel asked, brow furrowing in curiosity.
“Nope! You’re a new member. I’m the captain of this beauty, the tank ‘Buffalo’. Our task is simple: destroy the True Horde and march to Europe!” Patrick announced, his enthusiasm palpable.
“Okay…” Hazel replied, still processing the information. “Just keep in mind, ‘Buffalo’ is a heavy tank. Don’t expect it to win any races! But I assure you, with this tank, we can crush everything in our path—strong defenses, fierce offensives, you name it. This tank is our ticket to victory!” Patrick’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
The tank’s engine rumbled to life, echoing through the garage like a beast awakening from slumber. As it began to move, the heavy treads clanked against the concrete, sending vibrations through the ground.
“Hmm…” Hazel mused, starting to follow the tank as it lumbered out onto the street.
“How long until we reach Europe?” Hazel asked, glancing at Patrick, who walked beside him.
“I’m not certain. Maybe a month or two,” he said, looking ahead. “We’ll move eastward as fast as we can to crush the True Horde before they reach the West. Once we finish the job, we can march to Europe with all our might.”
“Two months? Are you sure? At this rate, maybe a year!” Hazel joked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
“I assure you, our tank is the most advanced! It can plow through mud, snow, and even mountains. It won’t slow us down. The True Horde is a major threat in this region, so we need to reach the front lines as quickly as possible. Even the worst terrain can’t slow down ‘Buffalo’,” Patrick replied confidently.
“Okay…” Hazel nodded.
“If we can defeat the True Horde in Central Asia, they’ll retreat. But if we can’t, they’ll storm through Europe and beyond. They aim to unite the world under their control and show no mercy to anyone except their own people. That’s why we must stop them now,” Patrick warned, his expression grave.
“Hmmm… so we’re actually…” Hazel began.
“Yes! We’re fighting for the peace and freedom of everyone. If the True Horde unites the world, they’ll become dictators and enslave everyone. We must stop them before it’s too late,” Patrick replied, his passion igniting a fire in Hazel.
“Yes, and our job is to defend it,” Hazel affirmed.
Patrick patted the Buffalo’s thick armor. “She can take a beating, but we’re her eyes and ears. Infantry swarms are the biggest threat.” He gestured to the surrounding landscape. “Out here, we’re exposed.” Hazel nodded, understanding the vulnerability of their position.
“Just remember, we’re stronger than we look. Don’t fear! With our tactics, our weapons, and the power of teamwork, we can destroy the True Horde army and march to Europe!” Patrick urged, his voice rising with enthusiasm.
“I’m not afraid,” Hazel replied firmly.
“Good! Because this war is about freedom and peace. It’s not a war for destruction like the True Horde wants. We are the force for good, and we will crush evil! Keep that in mind and fight without fear!” Patrick declared, his voice ringing with conviction.
“Sure,” Hazel replied,
“And if you have any questions, just ask! Don’t be shy about it; I’ll answer anything!” Patrick encouraged, his demeanor friendly.
“Nothing… I just don’t talk much,” Hazel confessed.
“That’s okay! Let’s head to the front line! The True Horde army is waiting!” Patrick said, a grin breaking across his face.
“Yes!” Hazel agreed,
As the tank slowly moved forward, people stopped in the street to gawk at the colossal war machine. It was indeed a monstrous sight—heavy armor and twin cannons aimed skyward, rumbling through the streets like a leviathan.
“With this size, it’s perfect for air strikes,” Hazel mused,
“This tank is the strongest and most advanced. Even an air strike can’t damage it because the thick armor is made of iron—it can withstand jet attacks and missiles. The True Horde air force won’t dare make a direct attack on ‘Buffalo.’ They might try to hit us with rocket launchers, but that’s risky as they’d need to get dangerously close,” Patrick explained, his tone filled with pride.
“What? How can a tank attack planes?” Hazel asked, incredulous.
“Simple! The tank has twin cannons that can tilt upwards about 75 degrees, allowing it to shoot down enemy planes flying above. With the speed of the cannon, we can take out aircraft before they can launch an attack!” Patrick responded, enthusiasm bubbling over. “And the most advanced cannons can hit targets at a distance of about 10 kilometers!”
“I see… do you have a reason for joining the army?” Hazel inquired, genuinely curious.
“We’re a group of people—most of us are veterans from Khaganate, mercenaries, or other types of veterans. We have no desire for money or glory; instead, we want a world without bloodshed. We fight for peace and freedom—that’s why we joined this army,” Patrick explained, sincerity etched in his features.
“I see… sounds cliché,” Hazel said, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
“It’s the truth. We fight for our country, for peace and freedom, for the next generation—the generation that will live without bloodshed. That’s who we fight for,” Patrick replied, his voice steady.
“Do you think the other side feels the same?” Hazel asked, her brow furrowing.
“The True Horde? They only want to rule the world. They want every nation to serve them and everyone to obey like slaves. Do you think they desire a world without bloodshed?” Patrick countered, raising an eyebrow.
“Hmm. Everyone is the villain in someone else’s story,” Hazel mused.
As they walked alongside the tank, the massive machine began its slow lumbering journey toward the front lines. Patrick stayed close to Hazel, his concern for her well-being clear.
“Are we in hostile territory yet?” Hazel asked, her heart racing with anticipation.
“Close, but not quite there. The True Horde is still in their own territory,” Patrick replied, scanning the horizon.
“Great. How long until we can rest?” Hazel asked, noticing the sky darkening ominously.
“We’ll keep moving day and night,” Patrick said, his tone serious. “We can’t afford to rest—not with the True Horde gearing up to attack. They’re just waiting for us to drop our guard.”
“Wait a minute… no rest at all?” Hazel protested, a frown creeping across her face.
“It’s harsh, but that’s the reality of battle,” Patrick said steadily. “If we rest, the True Horde will seize the chance to strike. So we must keep moving; so far, we’ve only seen their movements, but they haven’t attacked yet.”
Hazel stifled a yawn, fatigue creeping in. “Okay then…”
“Stay awake!” Patrick urged, his tone firm but playful. “We’re still far from the front line. The enemy won’t rest, and neither can we.”
“Can we at least rotate?” Hazel asked, hoping for some mercy.
“Absolutely. We need to rotate so everyone can catch some rest and regain strength. Just stay focused and don’t fall asleep,” he replied, a hint of humor lightening his words.
“Okay…” Hazel replied, but Patrick could see the fatigue etched on her face, her eyelids drooping heavily.
Suddenly, rain began to pour down, soaking them both. “Ah, rain! Good for covering our tracks,” Patrick remarked, grinning despite the downpour. “But now you’re wet and probably cold too. So try not to fall asleep… don’t fall asleep…”
“Yes, but do we even know where the enemy is?” Hazel asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Only through our scouts. They’re waiting at the front line but won’t attack until they feel strong enough to crush us,” Patrick explained, his brow furrowing slightly.
“So they’re just shadowing us?” Hazel mused, glancing around as the rain continued to pour.
“Exactly. They’re just watching us, waiting for us to tire. The longer we can keep moving without rest, the less likely they’ll be to attack successfully,” Patrick said, his expression serious.
“But do you think that’s sustainable in the long run?” Hazel asked, her tone skeptical.
“No, it’s not sustainable,” Patrick admitted, shaking his head. “But we don’t have a choice. The True Horde doesn’t get tired. They’re just waiting for us to slow down so they can crush us. We must keep moving forward, no matter what.”
“Just… I see now why we’re called ‘Bastards,’” Hazel said, a wry smile breaking through her fatigue.
“Right you are,” Patrick chuckled, the sound warm in the chilly rain.
As they continued marching through the downpour, the night wore on without a break. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the True Horde remained silent, as if they were waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“How long until we reach the border?” Hazel asked as dawn began to break, her heart pounding with anticipation.
“The True Horde is right by that border. They’ve seen and heard us already. They haven’t attacked yet because they’re probably waiting for reinforcements,” Patrick said, glancing at the darkening sky. “It’s only a matter of time now. We have a little more time before we reach the border.”
“Have you fought them before?” Hazel asked, curiosity piqued.
“Not me, but many in my group have. They’ve seen the brutality and ruthlessness of the True Horde firsthand,” Patrick replied, his expression growing somber.
Hazel nodded, absorbing his words. “They’ve witnessed horrors—people being killed in front of them, heads being severed, faces melting from explosions. Some suffered from mental scars that haunt them at night. Our leader, Zion, was even kidnapped and spent years in a True Horde camp, experiencing things no one should endure,” Patrick said, his voice heavy with gravity.
“Really? I didn’t know that… Are you sure that story is real?” Hazel asked, her eyes widening.
“Absolutely. If you don’t believe me, ask the veterans of this mission. They’ll tell you about Zion’s time in that horrific camp,” Patrick urged.
“Hmm… I see…” Hazel yawned again, struggling to stay awake.
“You’re still sleepy. You need to resist. It’s not a good time to rest,” Patrick reminded her.
“This is the worst decision of my life,” she groaned, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.
“It’s a sacrifice we must make for the good of the mission,” Patrick replied, ever the optimist.
“Why do you still look so fresh? Are you on drugs or something?” Hazel teased, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Patrick laughed heartily. “No, that’s just my nature! I stay positive so the team can draw motivation from me. Even if I’m tired, I can’t let that show.”
“How can we sustain this kind of operation? At this rate, we’ll be defeated by our own bodies,” Hazel pointed out, her tone serious again.
“We can’t keep this up for long, but we don’t have a choice. The True Horde is just as tough as we are. They can fight without rest as long as we do. The difference is they have more numbers. That’s why we must keep moving forward,” Patrick explained, resolute.
“Yes…” Hazel said, feeling the pressure of their situation.
“Just don’t fall asleep,” Patrick urged, his voice softening. “I don’t want to lose you…”
“Shhhh…” Hazel murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy.
“Hmm… give me some drugs,” Hazel murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.
Patrick sighed, torn between amusement and concern. “I’ve got a pill that’ll keep you awake for a whole day, but I can’t promise it won’t drive you a little crazy. It has no effect on me, but for most people, it’s like rocket fuel… and not the good kind.” He handed her the small, unassuming pill, eyeing her with a mix of skepticism and hope.
“Don’t worry about it, Hatman,” Hazel said, her tone light, though the fatigue lingered in her eyes.
“Okay.” Patrick watched her swallow the pill, a nervous knot forming in his stomach.
A few hours later, the pill began to kick in. Hazel felt the fog of fatigue lift, replaced by a sharpness that made her more alert. “Yes!” she exclaimed, her pace quickening. “I’m awake! Time to see the sights!”
And the sights were… interesting. This entire road told a silent story, a stark contrast to the official narrative. The mass recruitment had left deep scars: empty villages, mostly inhabited by older women and young mothers with tired eyes and clinging children. They even passed a young man in a rather unconvincing skirt and scarf, clearly trying to avoid conscription – a detail Hazel spotted instantly thanks to her eye implant. He looked like he’d raided his grandmother’s closet in the dark. Yet, in every village and town, the Khagan’s crimson flag flapped proudly in the wind. Free food, courtesy of the Red Nation, was being handed out, and any mention of the recent defeats was conspicuously absent. “They’re certainly putting on a brave face,” Hazel observed, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “But I wonder how long they can keep up the charade.”