Wanderer closed his eyes. He glanced at the chamber of his gun, noting with a sinking heart that he only had one bullet left. The thought of capture was unbearable; he knew he had to save that last bullet for himself if it came to that.
The sound of footsteps echoed ominously as the enemy began to climb the stairs toward the second floor. His exhausted men, weary from the relentless fighting, looked to him for guidance. “Sir, we’re running low on ammo! We must retreat to the third floor!” one of them urged, desperation creeping into his voice.
Wanderer shook his head firmly. “No. The artillery will come. The second floor is the best place for shelter. All of you, let’s head to the bathroom. It’s our last gamble... heh.”
They moved quickly, barricading the only entrance to the bathroom with tables and chairs, creating a makeshift fortress. It was only a matter of time before the attackers would set explosives or launch a fire attack to finish them off. Wanderer looked around at the three men left in his command, their faces a mix of exhaustion and determination. “Glad to know you guys. I’m honored,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them.
Wanderer stood before the mirror, his reflection a haunting reminder of the chaos surrounding him. His eyes were filled with a mix of exhaustion and contemplation, He muttered to himself in a low voice, “God is great, isn’t he?”
The sounds of movement on the other side of the barricade jolted him from his thoughts. The voices of the attackers grew louder, their intentions clear as they prepared to throw a grenade.
When the grenade landed near his legs, he didn’t flinch. Instead, one of his comrades quickly grabbed it and tossed it back out to the attackers. The explosion caused chaos among their ranks, and Wanderer smiled, nodding at his comrade. “Good throw.”
But as he turned back to the mirror, a sudden spray of blood covered his face. The soldier who had thrown back the grenade was shot down by the attackers, and the sound of gunfire intensified as they continued to assault the barricade,
Wanderer let out a faint chuckle,. “I always imagined I’d die on something a bit more grand, you know? Maybe on a throne or something. Or who knows, maybe even in a nuclear explosion. Who knows if fate gives me death in a toilet?” He laughed,
Meanwhile, in the command center, Shizuka’s frustration mounted. The SWAT commander declared that an artillery strike was impossible due to their position. the sky creepers are block the target. But finally, the sky cleared of Series 9 hover drones, thanks to the destroyed jammer. The forces were able to detect and guide missiles to the drones more accurately. One pilot managed to inflict damage on the enemy in the restaurant with a napalm strike, though the risk of inaccuracy loomed large.
Shizuka stood before the command center's control board, her fingers hovering over the buttons that would send the napalm bomb hurtling toward its target. She understood the risks; the explosion could potentially kill not only the enemy but also Wanderer, his comrades, and his friends. But ultimately, she made the tough call, issuing the order to release the bomb.
“do it!”
The command center fell into a tense silence as everyone awaited the impact of the falling napalm bomb. swat jet drop its load. a giant firewall erupted on side of restaurant,
Back in the bathroom, Wanderer watched as flames began to consume the barricade, the smoke rising and making it difficult to breathe. He turned to his companions, his voice firm but calm. “Quick, turn on the sink! It won’t do much, but at least it will keep the flames at bay for a bit longer.”
Meanwhile, Sanada and Oboro’s team began descending the tower. They saw the restaurant Wanderer was defending engulfed in flames. Hurrying their pace, they contacted him. “Do you still live?” Oboro barked through the comms.
“Yeah... somehow.”
As the flames roared around them, two of Wanderer’s men began to break the barricade. After extinguishing the fire with the limited water they had from the sinks, they realized that staying in the bathroom was no longer a viable option. They prepared themselves for the struggle that lay ahead.
One of his companions found a fire extinguisher, while the other was lost in the smoke. Wanderer spotted a broken window, a potential escape route. “We must jump!” he shouted over the roaring flames to his last remaining comrade.
“Are you ready?” he asked,
“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this,” his comrade replied.
Wanderer and his accompanying comrade take a few steps back, preparing to make the leap out of the burning building. They exchange a quick glance, a silent message of encouragement, before charging towards the window. They leap out into the unknown, hoping to survive the fall and find safety on the other side.
Life is both very short and long. Wanderer eyes closed. A pitch black until.. a nothing. A peace,, then he can see a light in end of tunnel..
Wanderer slowly opened his eyes, a sharp pain shooting through both of his legs. The last thing he remembered was the impact, and now he found himself in the medbay. “Aghhh... don’t cut my legs,” he groaned, panic rising in his chest.
“Stay still, Sir,” one of the medics replied, injecting a painkiller into his arm. “Your skin has suffered serious burns, and we’re still assessing the extent of the damage to your legs.”
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Wanderer’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. “What happened to him? The one who fell with me?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.
The medbay attendant turned to him, offering a small smile of reassurance. “Don’t worry, Sir. The one who fell with you is still here. He received some cuts and bruises, but he’s going to be alright. He has already been treated and is resting in the recovery room.”
Wanderer’s voice softened as the painkiller began to take effect. “Lucky bastard... ah, me too, I guess... mhm, yes. Good boy... and... what happened to the war? Did we win?”
The attendant chuckled lightly at Wanderer’s comment about luck. “Yes, you were lucky, Sir. As for the outcome of the war, it’s still undecided. But we’re holding our ground and fighting fiercely. We’re not giving up without a fight.”
“Good... how long have I been out?”
The medbay attendant glanced at the medical monitor next to Wanderer, checking the date and time of his admittance. “You’ve been unconscious for quite some time, Sir. It’s been about three days since you were brought here.”
“What! Three days! And we haven’t won yet... I must... get out of here!” Wanderer exclaimed,
The attendant looked at him with concern, noticing his determined expression as he attempted to sit up. “Sir, you must rest. You’ve sustained serious injuries, including burns to your skin. It’s not safe for you to get out of here yet; your body needs time to heal.”
Wanderer gritted his teeth, frustration boiling over as he tried to tap into his psychic ability, only to be met with a sharp pain in his head. “Damn it... the drugs... they’re blocking my ability.”
“Well... at least give me back my comm. I need eyes on the battlefield,” he insisted.
The medbay attendant hesitated for a moment, but seeing the urgency in Wanderer’s eyes, he nodded and handed over the comm. “Alright, Sir. Here’s your comm. But please, don’t overexert yourself. You need to rest and let your body recover.”
In a dimly lit, futuristic laboratory, the air was thick with the scent of chemicals and the hum of machinery. A group of scientists, led by Dr. Nero a old man with Einstein chaotic hair, gathered around a glass chamber containing a strange, glowing creature.
Dr. Nero spoke in a hushed, almost reverent tone, “We are on the cusp of something truly extraordinary, my friends. These experiments have brought us closer to the ultimate goal: the creation of a perfect lifeform. This time, it might truly work.”
One of the scientists, glancing nervously at the creature, asked, “But what about the risks involved? What if something goes wrong again?”
Dr. Nero dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. “Risks are inherent in any scientific endeavor. But the potential rewards far outweigh the dangers... Imagine a where humanity is elevated to a higher plane of existence. That is the world we are building.”
“But what about those factions who now fight? How will they react to our experiments?”
Dr. Nero smiled coldly. “Humans? They are merely a means to an end. A stepping stone on our path to greatness. They are like ants, scurrying about, oblivious to the grand design.”
He paused, narrowing his eyes at monitor showing battle still raging in sin city street “Ants are fascinating creatures, aren’t they? They work tirelessly, building complex societies, each with its own specific role. But they are ultimately insignificant. A single footstep can crush an entire colony.”
“Humans are no different,” he continued, “They are driven by greed, by fear, by a desire for power. They are incapable of truly understanding the potential of life. They are a hindrance to progress.”
Turning back to the scientists, he urged, “So let us continue our work, my friends. Let us create a new world, a world free from the limitations of humanity. A world where we are truly gods.”
Meanwhile, on the battlefield in Series 9 City, Wanderer found himself in a wheelchair, meeting with his lieutenant. “What do you mean by SWAT is reluctant to join forces with us into a city? Do they want to prolong the war? Damn, I should know this... this is... sad.” He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Shizuka and Furqan shared the same emotion, knowing that SWAT was pursuing its own agenda while the True Horde remained neutral, their intentions unreadable.
Shizuka clenched her fists in frustration. “Why do they always have to play games? Do they have no consideration for the lives they’re gambling with?”
Furqan shook his head sadly. “It’s not easy to trust the very people you’ve been fighting against. But we all share the same goal, don’t we? To end the war and find peace.”
Wanderer pondered aloud, “Hmm... SWAT card. Perhaps we should make a deal with Series 9. They don’t want to be completely annihilated; a vassalization might work. They need Series 9 labs for their economy.”
Furqan nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. The labs could be useful for their economy. A vassalization agreement might work.”
Shizuka, still frustrated but beginning to consider the implications, said, “It goes against everything we stand for, but if it means ending the war sooner...”
Wanderer turned his wheelchair to face Sanada. “We’re still in the heart of their territory. Find their main lab, and this time, make sure every lab it’s connected to is destroyed. Use your EMP. If that fails, we’ll use a virus.”
Sanada clenched his fists in determination. “I won’t fail. I’ll find the main lab and make sure every connection to it is severed.”
Chrome, standing in the background with his arms crossed, added, “And if the virus fails?”
Wanderer replied, “If it fails, then all of this war is pointless.” He looked toward the northern part of the city, where the skyline was dotted with the banners of the True Horde. “Damn, those mutants are smart. Unlike me, who impulsively joined this silly war without a second thought.” He turned back to his team. “Even if we fail, we will make these cyberpunks lose billions by destroying their twisted labs and equipment. That’s the only thing we can do before they beg for peace with SWAT.”
Shizuka frowned but remained resolute. “You have a point. We may not win the war, but if we can hurt them financially, it may give them pause.”
“Good. Are you guys with me?” Wanderer asked, his voice steady.
The squad members all nodded in agreement.
Shizuka’s eyes gleamed with determination. “We’re with you.”
Furqan tightened his grip on his sword. “To the end.”
Chrome wore a grim smile. “No turning back now.”
Sanada’s expression was resolute. “Let’s do this.”
Wanderer turned to Oboro, who stood to the side, appearing stoic as always. “How about you, Oboro?”
“I’ll continue scouting. You won’t see me, but I’ll be there,” Oboro replied, his voice steady.
“Mhmhm... no leaving?” Wanderer teased.
Oboro rolled his eyes beneath his goggles. “Of course not. Someone has to keep an eye on you all.”
Wanderer smiled. “That’s my good boy. Now, let’s bring them hell.”
The squad members smirked at Oboro’s response, then turned their focus to the task at hand.
Shizuka cracked her knuckles. “Let’s get to work then.”
Furqan tightened his grip on his sword. “The cyberpunks won’t know what hit them.”
Chrome’s eyes were filled with steely resolve. “On your go, Wanderer.”