A dusty breeze drifts across the sandy highway. A sign alongside the road reads, "Interstate 4." The blue paint is long faded, partially covered by bits of sand. Another sign indicates that the highway leads to Repul, the capital city. I peer over the hill overlooking the road. Empty, expect for the tracks of vehicles. Spotter, get over here. We're going to set up a nest and wait. I glance back at you. I want you to get into contact with our artillery regiment. Just in case.
Comments
2M1A2 Sepv3 Abrams
30/09/2025
Fruit-Loops
Creator
01/10/2025