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<blockquote data-quote="馬冠宇" data-source="post: 43365" data-attributes="member: 162">[ATTACH=full]7138[/ATTACH]November 20, 2031. I’m Magonia, slumped in my office at the dockside restaurant HQ on Queens Wharf, the harbor’s chill seeping into my bones as I grapple with the hit we just took. General Novak, a cold-eyed bastard leading some survivor army, showed up unannounced with a tank and a military truck, their rumble shaking the wharf like a death knell. His demand was simple: hand over all our food, fuel, and even a bit of ammo, or he’d flatten Infection Free Zone Wellington. Lazy as I am, I know a losing fight— I gave him everything: every sack of grain, every can of beans, all our diesel, and a handful of shotgun shells we couldn’t spare. The crew of 68 watched, gutted, as we loaded his truck, my cruel glare silencing their protests. Novak’s convoy rolled out, tank treads scarring the wharf, leaving us with nothing but five raised garden beds growing potatoes, greens, and onions to feed us.We’re on our knees now, the Cuckoo and One Red Dog kitchens reduced to scraping porridge from the last of our herbs, the wharf’s crops our only hope against starvation. The 8 guardsmen, posted in the four towers (two on the research lab, two on the Wellington Museum) and patrolling the settlement, cling to their handguns, a few more stashed in the armory for towers we need to build fast. Our vanguard, the 12 front-line fighters who’ve led since day one, still patrol in the sedan, shotguns and assault rifles ready, but the ammo loss stings. The infected’s invasions are relentless, their cunning moans haunting the night, yet we haven’t lost a soul. Kara and Tane drive the crew to tighten defenses, and I let fear keep them sharp—hope’s a trap. The museum’s antenna’s dead since Voss’s traders fell. I’m not leaving my HQ, assault rifle by my chair, sedan keys in my pocket, plotting how to claw back from this. Infection Free Zone Wellington’s 68 are unbroken, but Novak’s gutted us, and my lazy ass’ll have to scheme harder to keep us breathing.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="馬冠宇, post: 43365, member: 162"] [ATTACH type="full"]7138[/ATTACH] November 20, 2031. I’m Magonia, slumped in my office at the dockside restaurant HQ on Queens Wharf, the harbor’s chill seeping into my bones as I grapple with the hit we just took. General Novak, a cold-eyed bastard leading some survivor army, showed up unannounced with a tank and a military truck, their rumble shaking the wharf like a death knell. His demand was simple: hand over all our food, fuel, and even a bit of ammo, or he’d flatten Infection Free Zone Wellington. Lazy as I am, I know a losing fight— I gave him everything: every sack of grain, every can of beans, all our diesel, and a handful of shotgun shells we couldn’t spare. The crew of 68 watched, gutted, as we loaded his truck, my cruel glare silencing their protests. Novak’s convoy rolled out, tank treads scarring the wharf, leaving us with nothing but five raised garden beds growing potatoes, greens, and onions to feed us. We’re on our knees now, the Cuckoo and One Red Dog kitchens reduced to scraping porridge from the last of our herbs, the wharf’s crops our only hope against starvation. The 8 guardsmen, posted in the four towers (two on the research lab, two on the Wellington Museum) and patrolling the settlement, cling to their handguns, a few more stashed in the armory for towers we need to build fast. Our vanguard, the 12 front-line fighters who’ve led since day one, still patrol in the sedan, shotguns and assault rifles ready, but the ammo loss stings. The infected’s invasions are relentless, their cunning moans haunting the night, yet we haven’t lost a soul. Kara and Tane drive the crew to tighten defenses, and I let fear keep them sharp—hope’s a trap. The museum’s antenna’s dead since Voss’s traders fell. I’m not leaving my HQ, assault rifle by my chair, sedan keys in my pocket, plotting how to claw back from this. Infection Free Zone Wellington’s 68 are unbroken, but Novak’s gutted us, and my lazy ass’ll have to scheme harder to keep us breathing. [/QUOTE]

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