The day was dragging. Even the rats seemed bored. Hazel sat by a sputtering fire, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. Around her, soldiers were doing what soldiers do when there's nothing to do: cleaning weapons they'd already cleaned, complaining about the food they'd already eaten, and generally trying to avoid thinking about the larger war raging around them. It was almost… peaceful. Then the world went boom.
“What the heck?” a soldier shouted, eyes wide. “Blue on blue! Repeat—you're killing your own men!” But the chaos continued unabated.
Red Army soldiers had turned on each other, the brutal fighting erupting into a frenzy of chaos. Shouts and screams filled the air, the once orderly ranks devolving into madness. The city was awash in confusion, a damp city transformed into a hellscape.
From a radio chatter crackling in the command center, a desperate voice emerged. “Zion ordered his loyal forces to attack the Red Army... please—” The transmission cut off.
Hazel’s heart raced as the reality of their situation sank in. “What the hell is going on?!” she exclaimed, shaking a nearby soldier. “Who’s in command of this base?”
“I don’t know!” the soldier cried, panic rising in his voice. “I’m just a lowly soldier! Please stop shaking me!” The young man was clearly overwhelmed, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.
“Damn it!” Hazel growled, frustration boiling over. “I’m taking command here! Anyone who wants to live, follow me!”
A few soldiers, motivated by fear and the instinct to survive, began to rally around Hazel. Slowly but surely, the madness began to subside as more soldiers joined him, their focus shifting from chaos to clarity.
As their tank division and newly formed army retreated from the burning city, they moved southward, trying to escape the tumult. The mood was grim; exhaustion hung over them like a fog, and the silence was deafening, punctuated only by the rumbling of tanks.
Arriving in the city of Ulan Ude, they marched in silence, the weight of their experiences heavy on their shoulders. No one spoke over the radio; the air was thick with anxiety.
Once they settled, Hazel assessed the situation. “Alright, boys. We’re staying put until we get a better understanding of what the hell happened.”
That night, she and a few lower-ranking officers gathered around a radio, straining to catch snippets of information. The atmosphere was tense, the cold air wrapping around them like a shroud.
Suddenly, a scout reported that another Red Army division was approaching. “We still don’t know if they’re friendly or not,” Hazel said, frowning. “Let’s contact them.”
“Bastard group to Army Group C! We are not part of the coup d'état! Identify yourselves!” she called out over the radio.
A voice crackled back quickly. “This is Army Group C! We’re not part of the coup d'état either! We’re loyal to the Red Army!”
“Good. Come here,” Hazel instructed, her heart pounding as she prepared for their arrival.
With tension thick in the air, she ordered her men to stand by, turrets aimed in the direction of the approaching group. A lone jeep rolled into town, and the occupants stepped out cautiously, hands raised in a peaceful gesture.
“Thank holy Caesar! We found a friendly here!” an officer exclaimed.
Hazel stepped forward, introducing herself. “I’m Major Hazel. And you are?”
“I’m Captain Adam,” the lone man replied, his confident stance belying the worry in his eyes. “I’m a loyal soldier of the Red Army. I was sent here to assess the situation. We’ve heard reports of soldiers turning against their own.”
“That’s right,” Hazel replied, feeling a sense of urgency. “What division are you with?”
“The 700th Tank Division, ‘Steel Lion,’ under Supreme Commander Zion,” Captain Adam said, his tone serious. “We were ordered to investigate reports of traitors in the area.”
“Traitors?” Hazel echoed, rubbing her chin. “What do you know about them?”
“They’re the ones who turned their backs on us during the fight,” Adam explained. “Zion ordered us to eliminate them. But we’re still trying to figure out who the traitors are.”
Hazel nodded, understanding the complexities of the situation. “So we’re caught in the middle of a power struggle?”
“Exactly,” Adam said, his expression grave. “We need to tread carefully. The Supreme Commander is engaged in a fight to the south, and we can’t reach him for guidance.”
“How many soldiers do you have?” Hazel asked, gauging their strength.
“About 149,” Adam replied. “But we’ll need to be careful about who we trust.”
Hazel’s shoulders slumped slightly as she realized the precariousness of their position. “We’re in a complicated situation, then.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Yes,” Adam agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”
The distant rumble of artillery sounded like thunder, each boom sending shivers down Hazel's spine.
"Damn it!" she muttered, her mind racing. "We need to get ready, Captain, or we'll end up like General Sima—left for dead."
"I agree," Captain Adam replied, his face etched with worry. "The Supreme Commander's orders to kill these 'traitors' without any real Information… it feels like we're just pawns in some sick game."
Hazel nodded, a steely resolve settling in her chest. "I'm moving west to get a better picture of what's happening. You should come with us, Captain."
"Absolutely. This whole situation stinks. The Supreme Commander's gone paranoid. We need to find somewhere safe to regroup," Adam said, his voice firming.
As March began, they dug in, gathering scattered Red Army soldiers who sought refuge with Hazel's group. With each new report, the situation became clearer: Zion and his inner circle were arbitrarily deciding who was loyal and who wasn't, creating their own delusional version of reality.
One day, a lone woman walked into the city. She wore a bodysuit like the ones Zion's bodyguards used. The Red Army soldiers tensed, watching her every move as she approached, seemingly oblivious to their stares.
"Who is she?" a soldier whispered.
"Let's find out," Hazel said, stepping forward. "Hands up, or we blow your head! We don't know your intentions!"
The woman calmly raised her hands, her expression eerily calm. A Red Army jeep pulled up beside her, and she was escorted to Hazel without resistance.
"I'm Major Hazel. And you are?" Hazel asked, scrutinizing her.
"I'm Captain Nara," the woman replied, her voice low and quiet, her eyes blank.
“You were one of Panji's companions, right?” Hazel pressed, remembering the fallen soldier whose head now hung on the city gate.
“Yes,” Nara said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We were like two sides of a coin. He always thought of others first.”
The mention of Panji made Hazel flinch inwardly. The grim reminder of what happened to "traitors" hung heavy in the air. "What happened to you?"
"I was part of Zion's guard," Nara explained, taking a deep breath. "I've worked for him for a year without any problems, but now… everything's wrong. His paranoia is suffocating. The Red Army's falling apart, and he's doing nothing to stop it."
Hazel exchanged a look with Captain Adam. The weight of their predicament settled on them.
"We can't follow a madman's orders," Adam said. "He's going to get us all killed."
"You're right," Hazel agreed, her jaw set. "We need to make our own decisions."
"Alright, Red Dogs," Hazel rallied the troops. "Our Supreme Leader thinks we're traitors, so let's act like it. We're stuck between the chaos to the north and east, where the Red Army will shoot us on sight, and the True Horde and Crescent Alliance to the south and west."
The soldiers nodded, some looking worried, others determined. They understood: it was time to break away.
"We're taking a back route through Kyrgyzstan, then through the mountains of Afghanistan, and finally to the Emerald League," Hazel explained. "They're neutral and known to take in mercenaries. It's our best shot at safety."
"Sounds good," Adam affirmed. "Splitting into three sections—one for each tank division—will minimize risk and help us move strategically."
"Exactly," Hazel confirmed. "We'll put the light tanks in the middle for support, with the heavier units on the flanks. We need balance for whatever we encounter."
The officers nodded in agreement, their resolve solidifying.
"Captain Adam, you'll lead the right section. Captain Patrick, you'll take the left. I'll take the center," Hazel assigned decisively. "Tetsuya, you'll scout ahead."
"Got it," Adam replied, determination in his voice. "We have to stay sharp. This route is dangerous, but if we stick together, we can make it."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the ranks. Some soldiers looked concerned, while others seemed resolved. They were ready to break free.
"We're taking a back route through Kyrgyzstan, then through the mountains of Afghanistan, and finally to the Emerald League," Hazel reiterated. "It's a neutral zone, known for accepting mercenaries. We'll be safe there."
"Good plan," Adam agreed. "Kyrgyzstan, then the Emerald League. It's the safest option."
"Let's hope we don't run into hostile Red Army units to the north or the Crescent Alliance at the Central Asia border," Hazel cautioned.
"That's our biggest risk," Adam acknowledged. "We need to stay vigilant."
"We have 120 light tanks, 8 buffalo tanks, and a dozen trucks. It'll be a long caravan. I suggest we split into three sections," Hazel proposed.
The officers considered the plan.
"Splitting up reduces the risk and lets us take different routes," one officer suggested. "About 40 light tanks and two buffalo tanks per section."
"Exactly. Lighter units in the middle for support," Hazel added.
"Agreed. They can move to either flank if needed. We need balance," Adam said.
With the plan set, Hazel assigned roles. "Captain Adam, right section. Captain Patrick, left section. I'll take the center. Tetsuya, scout ahead."
"Understood," Adam replied. "We'll be ready."
"It's about a 4,000-kilometer trek," Hazel warned. "It could take weeks. If you believe in prayer, now's the time."
Patrick and Yu exchanged a glance, still shocked, but they nodded in agreement. Tetsuya silently mounted his strider tank and moved out to scout.
The soldiers, taking Hazel's words to heart, began their journey through Russia toward Kyrgyzstan, across harsh terrain of forests and steppes. The march was grueling; each day felt endless. But they kept moving, determined to escape the chaos behind them.
As they trudged on, Hazel often glanced at Nara, the lone woman walking among them. She moved slowly, her expression blank and emotionless, like a doll. Her eyes seemed to stare into nothingness, unfazed by the harsh environment. Hazel couldn't shake her concern. Something about Nara's demeanor was unsettling, a haunting reminder of the turmoil they were all fleeing.
As chaos erupted around her, Hazel’s heart raced, but her thoughts drifted to her brother. What would he think of me now? Guilt gnawed at her. Am I honoring his memory, or am I just lost in my quest for vengeance? And now this?
On a quiet night, Hazel stood atop a tank. She glanced at Nara, who stood nearby, her expression as blank as the starless sky. Hazel gestured for her to join her, and Nara silently obeyed. She waited, still and passive. This stillness intrigued Hazel.
"What do you remember about North America?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Nara tilted her head slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "North America?"
"Yes," Hazel replied. "The capital of the Red Nation. You've been there, right?"
Her gaze drifted, as if searching for memories. "A friend told me it's a land of freedom, without war or conflict—a place filled with people from all over."
Hazel frowned. "Forget what your friend said. What do you remember?"
Nara paused, then responded in a flat, emotionless tone. "The land where democracy was born—freedom reigns. People live without fear, where democracy thrives."
"That doesn't tell me much," Hazel pressed. "What about the Free World Coliseum? Is it bigger than the Blood Khaganate Arena?"
Her eyes brightened for a moment. "Oh, it's completely different. The Coliseum is massive, with thousands of passionate spectators who love the excitement of battle."
"How many times did you win in the arena before Zion recruited you?" Hazel asked.
Nara hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing her face. "I don't remember. I didn't keep count. Fighting is my duty."
"Impressive... and kind of sad," Hazel remarked, her voice softer now.
Silence settled between them. Nara's expression remained unchanged, but the shadows in her eyes hinted at unspoken sorrows.
Meanwhile, back in zion base, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Viper appeared on the monitor, his voice brimming with excitement. “I took Novosibirsk!”
Cheers erupted among the Wardogs, and Zion’s face lit up with pride. “Excellent work! We’ve secured the northern front. Let’s maintain pressure.”
Kassandra’s voice cut through the celebration. “Sir, Major Hazel wants to speak with you.”
Zion’s demeanor shifted to seriousness in an instant. “Put him through.”
The screen flickered to life, revealing Hazel, masked and weary, her eyes betraying a mixture of fatigue and determination. “Why attack your own soldiers?” she demanded.
Zion took a moment to respond, his gaze steady. “The Red Nation, seeking to expand its influence,and situation forcing us into a defensive stance. Despite our attempts at diplomacy, their aggressive maneuvers left us with no choice but to protect our sovereignty. This conflict is not just about land; it’s a struggle for identity and autonomy in a world dominated by anarchy.".”
Hazel’s voice was sharp, filled with frustration. “what the fuck you talking about? that is nonsense. We fought for you during the Winter War. Is this our reward?”
“Your sacrifices are noted,” Zion replied evenly, “but my people deserve self-determination. Our struggle continues.”
Hazel’s resolve hardened. “We’ll fight for our survival. We make our own fate.”
Zion acknowledged the weight of Hazel’s words. “Let’s seek a solution for both sides. We can work together.”
Hazel shook her head, a firm resolve in her eyes. “No. We’ll retreat to the Emerald League. Don’t pursue us.”
Zion sighed, the gravity of the situation settling in. “I’ll honor that request, but be warned: we will defend our territory.”
As the call ended, Zion turned to his team, the air thick with tension. “The Red Nation’s forces have retreated. We have a choice: let them go or pursue them.”
A murmur of mixed opinions filled the room. Trickster leaned forward, his voice eager. “Chasing them could open a new front in the south.”
Zion paused, considering. "I will respect your decision… for now. But understand, we will defend our territory." The line went dead. Zion turned to Kassandra, the air in the room thick with tension. "They're pulling back. What do you think, Kassandra? Do we let them go?"
Kassandra considered for a moment, tapping her finger on the table. "They're weakened, disorganized. Pursuing them could open up a new front, but it would stretch our own forces thin." She paused, looking directly at Zion. "Are we willing to take that risk?"