The Cold Metal was rising from its factory, the mercenaries were not more enemies, not more fighting for their money or gravel, they were there united as a brotherhood, standing in what was remain of their previous fights, 6 were the ones who survived to the metal enemy. When they came: The sky was black, lightings coming out of it, as their metal base approached, everyone started looking, no one did think this would get over, the base gate opened, revealing something the mercenaries could not beat, themselves…. When the battle called for the dead or life of everyone, bullets started coming out of the metal clones, every team started firing everything they could get, the metal menace started falling, one by one the teams were also falling. Everyone who could survive rushed through the badlands, only for surviving something that didn't wanted only Mann co, or the gravel, but the world and lives of everyone, the desert was cold, lifeless and lonely, what was left of it was only useless gravel, battlefields that were something worth in their time and the blood of the brothers fallen in the sand.