Dust. sand. gravel hit their face. the vision is limit to few meter. bullet whizzling, occasionally a explosion from heard from right and right.

in front of us was the true horde oil rig. we already surround them but suddenly the desert storm come to the area. turn the operation into a halt.

Young recruits, their faces etched with fear and confusion, lay prone in the sand, their minds racing. How had they ended up here, this is not a adventure. its a hell.

The mercenaries and SWAT forces were locked in a fierce battle against the True Horde defenders,

Wanderer, his face partially obscured by a weathered scarf, stood atop the mobile car, and mount the machine gun

Bullets whizzed past him, some striking close enough to send up puffs of dust around him. He took shoot. its was spray and pray. since he cant see the attacker. The enemy was relentless, their attacks coming from all sides.

"Get inside!" Shizuka shouted from the driver's seat, her voice barely audible over the din. Wanderer hesitated, taking one last shot before retreating to the relative safety of the armored vehicle. “i see something more terrible in past. its nothing,” wanderer said while wipe his face

Furqan, his face etched with concentration, stared at the blurry monitor. "We've lost visual contact with the drone," his voice filled with frustration.

"Damn it," Wanderer muttered. "We have no eyes."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a spare drone, its was a insect type drone mimicking a dragonfly. With a quick flick of his wrist, he activated it and sent it soaring into the sky. But the new drone was unfamiliar, its controls not as responsive as his old one. It struggled to maneuver in the turbulent wind, its movements jerky and unpredictable. the wind is too strong. and its just useless

"Damn it!" Wanderer swore, his frustration mounting. "God, please, help us."

He popped out from the top of the mobile home, his vision obscured by the swirling sand and smoke. He could barely make out the outlines of the other vehicles in the convoy, let alone the enemy positions.

He peered through the smoke, trying to get a sense of what was happening around them. The sounds of combat grew louder, the clatter of bullets echoing ominously around them.

Wanderer furrowed his forehead. Silence enveloped him for a moment before he spoke into the comms. "We lost many cars... we can't continue the assault."

The SWAT commander's voice crackled over the line, "Damnit, Wanderer. We need that oil derrick. We can't just retreat now."

Wanderer clenched his teeth, and then Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep his voice steady. "Yes, we will get the initiative after the sandstorm subsides."

There was a pause on the other end before the SWAT commander replied, his voice still tense but resigned. "Fine. We'll pull back. But as soon as the sandstorm passes, we're going back in."

"Good. Get ready for infantry to ready up!" he commanded, watching as the remaining vehicles retreated to a safe zone. The soldiers on foot stood by, their vision still limited by the swirling sands. "We will begin to attack them after the sandstorm is over. Stay calm,"

As Wanderer sent the message, he could see their minds focusing on the task at hand. They took deep breaths, steadying themselves for the upcoming fight. The silence was broken only by the sound of retreating vehicles and random explosion

“Easy, boys. In the past, our ancestors fought in trenches for days without moving. Patience; we will kill them all soon.”

Wanderer's mind raced as the sandstorm subsided, revealing dozens of burning vehicles from both allies and enemies. The sounds of intense firefight had faded, replaced by distant skirmishes. Anxiety crept in, wondering if this could be a trap set by the True Horde. But the opportunity was too great to ignore. He turned to his team, his voice firm. "Let's move out. Stay alert, and watch each other's backs. T formation."

Wanderer led the way, guiding his team toward the oil derrick. As they approached, the sight was imposing—a massive structure, its sides covered in rust and grime. It was hard to imagine such a formidable obstacle amidst the desolate wasteland.

Wanderer's team looked at the oil derrick with a mix of awe and trepidation. The structure was enormous, dwarfing them in size. a dried bodies is hanged on each side of wall. and the gate edge is decorated with a 2 giant tusk. with a rusty metal door.

"It's bigger than in the picture," Wanderer remarked, glancing at Furqan. "You lead the second group; attack the gate. After that, the rest of the SWAT force will follow."

Furqan nodded, led of the second group of mercs. Clad in a white exosuit, he moved forward, positioning his team to attack the gate. The rest of the SWAT force readied themselves for the main assault, moving methodically from cover to cover until they reached the gate. Meanwhile, Wanderer munched on a snack, waiting for them to get into position.

He stayed alert, keeping an eye on his team while the tension in the air thickened. Soon enough, the sounds of gunfire and explosions erupted as the attack on the gate began.

Then, the gate swung open, and a wave of mutant bikes with sidecars and a monster truck armed with a mounted machine gun surged through, firing indiscriminately. Wanderer watched in shock as the second group and SWAT forces were quickly overwhelmed.

Screams filled the air as soldiers fell to the barrage of gunfire and explosions. The situation spiraled out of control, and Wanderer knew they needed to act fast if they wanted to survive. He sighed, nodding to himself. "Prepare the rockets. Hit them!"

With a swift motion, Wanderer signaled his mercs to ready the rocket launchers. They aimed at the approaching enemy vehicles, waiting for the optimal range. "Fire!" he commanded.

Explosions erupted, followed by another.a monster truck with giant wheel turn into a ball of flame. Only a few riders escaped into the horizon. "Furqan, do you still live?" Wanderer contacted him through the comm.

For a moment, there was only static, then Furqan's strained voice came through. "Barely. I'm alive, but we've taken heavy casualties."

"Good. Stand by at the gate. We will be moving in," Wanderer instructed.

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Furqan's voice returned, tense but resolute. "Copy that. Standing by at the gate. Waiting for your signal."

Wanderer then commanded Shizuka and the rest of the armored vehicles. "We will go all in."

Shizuka starting up the armored vehicles and moving toward the oil derrick, followed closely by the rest of the mercs. Wanderer watched as they moved out, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it—the final push to take the derrick and hopefully turn the tide of the war.

The armored cars lined up in front of the gate, with the infantry behind them, all battered and weary. "Alright, boys... this is it. We've cheated death many times. To the gate of heaven! Attack!"

They charged through the gate, rifles firing and grenades exploding against the enemy. The fighting was fierce, bullets and shrapnel flying in every direction. The enemy was putting up a fight, but the mercs were determined to push through.

Wanderer's heart raced as he saw the horde of mutants approaching. He shouted to his men, urging them to stand strong against the incoming wave. "Hold the line! Don't let them break through!" he commanded, gripping his rifle tightly

The mutants drew closer, their twisted forms illuminated by the setting sun. Wanderer braced himself, waiting for the impact. Their monstrous appearances included large, misshapen heads, bulging eyes, and protruding tongues. They carried bows and aimed at Wanderer, who quickly dropped to the ground, taking cover behind a nearby body. A shot rang out, hitting him in the chest, but he pushed through the pain. After no mutants were standing, he muttered to himself, "Damn. They’ve become more deranged than the last one."

Wanderer watched the dozen mutants bodies in front of him, the sand turn into a dark crimson. inside the oil derrick facility. a sound of pumping machine is almost deafening.

"We've got to keep pushing," he said, turning to his men. "We need to secure this place." As he spoke, another mutant emerged from the shadows behind the machines, its grotesque form barely visible in the dim light.

The mutants continued to pour in, their numbers seemingly endless. Wanderer and his team fired their weapons, taking down as many as they could, but they couldn't afford to lose momentum.

They needed to keep pressing forward, to keep pushing toward their objective. Wanderer signaled to his men, gesturing for them to move up. They advanced, taking cover where they could and firing indiscriminately at anything that moved. The mutants continued to press in, their twisted forms closing in on the mercenaries. The mutants just running forward with their weapons like a wave, or bad game ai opponent

"They're breeding too many! Retreat to the open area! Retreat to the gate! Vehicles first! Go, move it!" Wanderer barked out commands,

The mercenaries scrambled to follow Wanderer's orders, and moving toward the open area around the gate. then the all vehicle led by Shizuka is then go outside the oil derrick area through the gate. while Furqan and Wanderer with the rest is hide on the creates, and low wall around the gate

"Take cover! Check your ammo! Don’t shoot before my command... trust me, I have an idea," Wanderer instructed.

True Horde mutants closed in,they think wanderer trying to escape. Wanderer ordered the vehicles outside to turn back and get inside again. "Go, go... crush them!"

The vehicles outside swung around and roared back through the gate, their engines growling as they charged toward the incoming mutants. The ground shook as they moved, their heavy weight crushing anything in their path. their spike and blade bumper is make their way.

Wanderer watched as they plowed into the mutants, the impact sending them flying in all directions. Screams and howls filled the air as the vehicles continued their assault, crushing the True Horde mutants under their wheels.

"Alright! Fire at will! Free for all!" Wanderer commanded.

With his order, the mercenaries leaped into action. They opened fire on the remaining mutants, their bullets tearing into the twisted forms and sending them stumbling back. It was a brutal,

A few minutes later, the chaos began to subside. "All clear!" someone shouted. "No one of them!" The surviving mercs and SWAT members started to lower their weapons, scanning the area for any signs of enemy movement..

Later, the SWAT banner was replaced by the True Horde banner atop the oil derrick facility. a black fist symbol with blue background replace the crimson flag "We captured the place, sir," Wanderer reported to the SWAT commander who arrive to the scene.

The SWAT commander, a man with one eyes nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Good job, Wanderer. You and your team have done well. The oil derrick is secure."

"Yes... but we don’t have enough men to guard this place. They will come to take it for sure," Wanderer replied,

The SWAT commander frowned, his expression turning serious. "We need to figure out a way to hold it until reinforcements arrive." He turned to Wanderer, his gaze intense. "Can you spare any more men to hold this place?"

Wanderer paused, his face unreadable. "…It means an extended tour."

The SWAT commander looked at Wanderer, a resigned expression on his face. "I know it's not ideal, but we don't have much choice. We need all the help we can get to hold this place."

Wanderer remained silent for a moment before nodding.

Later that night, despite their exhaustion, many of the mercenaries and SWAT members still couldn’t sleep. The air was thick with the aroma of mutants, a sharp scent that mingled with the smell of oil, creating an overwhelming perfume that clung to their senses. Some of them ended up resting in tents outside, just beside the pile of corpses

A few soldiers sat around, trying to distract themselves with idle conversation or checking their weapons, while others remained silent, staring into the darkness, their faces etched with exhaustion

As dawn broke, the scene shifted. Many of the corpses had already been buried. Wanderer made his way to the mass burial site,. As he approached, he see a small figure with white hair. kneeling in front of the burial site, its was Shizuka her head bowed in quiet reflection.

"You did this alone?" he asked softly, walking slowly toward her.

Startled from her thoughts, Shizuka looked up, quickly standing and wiping away a few tears from her eyes. "Yeah, I wanted to say a few words before they were buried," she replied, while wipe some dirt on her body

"You know... you could have waited for the rest to help with the burial,".

Shizuka shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, it's okay. I wanted to do this myself. They deserve a proper burial."

"Yes, even for the enemy?" he asked, curious about her perspective.

Shizuka nodded, her eyes focused on the burial site. "Yes, even for them. They were once people, with families and lives of their own. They were twisted and corrupted, but they still deserve a proper burial."

Wanderer considered her words, in death, they were all the same, regardless of the side they fought on.

"People... you still see them as human, don’t you?" he ask

Shizuka hesitated before answering, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose I do," she said finally. "I know they're mutated and changed, but they were still human once. They still had thoughts and feelings and families. I can't see them as just mindless monsters."

Wanderer studied her for a moment, appreciating her empathy. It was a rare trait in this world, and one that he admired.

Meanwhile, at the top of a nearby cliff, a man with a deer helmet rise up. one of the Blood Khaganate lord's retainers observed the scene, spear in hand. As the sun began to rise, he vanished from sight, leaving no trace behind.

Reinforcements arrived shortly after, bringing additional manpower and supplies. They quickly got to work, erecting watchtowers, forming barricades, and reinforcing the perimeter of the facility. In the afternoon, a supply and oil truck rolled in, delivering even more reinforcements and equipment needed to extract the oil. until there is no more coming in.

wanderer shake his head “not enough..we need more men. “ but they close the gate, a 2 jeep coming in. among the driver is was a clumsy scout whom Wanderer recognized from a previous encounter in a warehouse. "No more soldiers?" he asked to him

The scout gave an awkward smile and pointed to a jeep parked nearby. A man dismounted from the vehicle, carrying a long rifle on his back, clad in desert camouflage. He approached Wanderer, and from behind his mask, he spoke, "I'm Oboro. I was fascinated with your tale, Wanderer."

Wanderer turned to face Oboro, narrowing his eyes as he took in the other man's appearance. The rifle and camouflage spoke of his skills as a sniper, but it was his words that caught Wanderer's attention.

"You've been listening to stories about me, have you?" Wanderer asked, his tone guarded.

Oboro nodded, his eyes fixed on Wanderer's face. There was a gleam of admiration in his gaze that was both unsettling and intriguing. "Yes, I have. You've become quite the legend in the mercenary world. They speak of your strategic mind and your unique tactics... and your mysterious mask."

"Hah, I almost died multiple times, including yesterday," he said, raising his eyebrows and smirking behind his mask "Who knows about tomorrow..."

Oboro chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but that's what makes you interesting. The sheer odds you've beaten. Anyone else would have given up or died multiple times already. But not you."

Wanderer shrugged, his gaze flickering to the busy activity around them. He was used to dealing with admirers and curious individuals, but there was something about Oboro that felt different. There was a sense of understanding in his eyes, a depth to his interest that went beyond mere curiosity.

"So... why are you here? Do you have a death wish?" Wanderer asked,

Oboro let out a low chuckle at Wanderer's words, his expression turning serious. "Not a death wish," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "Just a desire to see the world and experience its chaos firsthand."

Wanderer studied him for a moment, trying to gauge the man. There was a hint of excitement and recklessness in Oboro, but also a sense of control and discipline behind it.

Wanderer smiled and chuckled. "Alright, man... good luck." He tapped Oboro's shoulder and moved away, leaving the sniper to ponder his words.

Oboro gave a nod of thanks and a small smirk, his eyes following Wanderer as he walked away. Intrigued by Wanderer's cryptic words and nonchalant attitude, he wondered what kind of man could remain so calm and collected in the face of such danger, and what secrets lay hidden behind that mask.