So… A war is coming, but we have prepared for the incident. Now, we see who can endure themselves with this power, and set this burning fire on. Who cares…? We don't… We are just mercenaries. We fight for our lands, and develop our own confidence. We've experienced more than we could imagine. Tight situations, attacked in the wild, getting blown up accidentally. Yes… we have knowledge. Now, we take it to a further stage, and tight up our shoe, and move out.

"Fire-team Squad 0-1, reporting into position. We spot several individual squads incoming up, east section. Authorized threat discovered, take positioning. Repeat, authorized threat discovered."

Finally, this war has instigated, and we celebrate for our last moment. We raised our glass high to the sky. "Last moment, guys! Celebrate for our last life!"

"We are a team, and we shall die together!"

"By the way, are we on our own, since command stated that everymen for himself."

That was quite conspiring. If we were on our own, then we cannot stand for ourselves, which is quite conspicuous to our command.

"Command stated that we are authorized to call air support, but cannot request for backup."

We weren't able to endure such guilty war. Our command weren't supposed to see us after this, were they? We were doomed to our sympathy, and follow orders alike soldiers. We were mercenaries.

"Sentry gun offline! We'll hide into a building before the federations arrive. Move your asses! These high standard armories will be located on the roofs, and watching over!"

The road was from side to side on west to east, with a crossroad amongst the hospital and the palace.

"Where should we go?"

"Let's get into this building here", Siris pointed at a construction, which had a window pointing north, but located at south way from the road. In a rapid sense, we relocated toward the small structure.

"Take this, Elias!" Rorke threw me an electronic device, joined similar with a modern tablet. "Call air supports in. They need some preparations."

"I really hope they don't have any vehicles…"

"Negative, Elias. Fire-team spotted over fifty or so armored machine-gun vehicles."

"We're f***ed…" Ajax screamed behind the road.

Air suddenly iced with few thick layers of viscosity. "Reports: Four men on the Fire-team. Thirteen men on us. Five men on Mortar Squad. Three men on Sniper Squad. Twenty men on Bravo Squad. Fourteen men on Charlie Squad. One Lieutenant by himself."

We have sixty mercenaries on our whole war, but facing an outnumbered enemy of five hundred. This is an imbalanced war. Belligerently we fight, but we'll lose ourselves. No, we cannot survive this war. Sixty men… we should have ten defensive forces. Hard to believe about our discipline, but how are we going to conquest this solid land?

"No matter what we fight for, we'll lose ourselves in the end", Siris muffled.

"Siris, we are not robots. We make our own decisions and survive on our own. Remember, teamwork."

"Guys, don't overreact on such guilty mutter", Rakesh spoke.

"What do you care, Rakesh?"

"You don't even know how many sacrifices I've made…"

"At least not more than Siris! YOU don't even know how much his mind had been broken down by brute force."

"War is hell, our lives are burned. Cards are turned, and so we are dead", he replied.

"Nope, Rakesh. Cards are not turned yet. We still have sixty armed forces, and five Artillery Support cards. So… Tell me how we spend them. And yes, we have a Ninja in our squad."

"Who the hell is he?!"

"You don't need to know yet, as he is our critical support device. And no, I'm not a geek."

Our sentry weaponry were set on rooftops and pointed directly at the streets. But now they were offline, bend into a small shelter, unseen by the enemies. They were armed with a large Gatling Weaponry with laser pointer as their sight. Oh, we'll see who's going to survive the shooting… We'll see.

"Guys, cover this window with some small barriers."

Our plan remained as to deflect our enemies' attention, and let the town quiet. "Alpha Squad, ready on point. Everyone, find cover. Flanking Position 1-5, 1-6, and point Bravo", Rorke reported.

Jackson took a wooden barrier, bolting it into the window. "Everyone, get in here!"

Everyone strolled into the small house-like building. The insides were evacuated, disordered, and turned upside-down.

Taking our step for a closer observation, we hid behind the window, spying outside. This certainly was not the moment, thus we put our gear for preparation. "Guys, get your gear ready! We will engage with approximately fifteen minutes. Repeat, get your ass on position."

My rifle, hung on my shoulder. It felt good… Like a medication, offering you another taste to sooth yourself.

"Who is the Lieutenant, Elias?" Kick requested.

"Err… He's an experienced man, supervising us."

"Codename?"

"Lieutenant 2nd Class: Noel, Codename: P90; 'Velocity'. He's a Recon Class."

"Oh… So… he's not going to judge the hell out of us like that last Lieutenant, right?"

"I consider so, but don't get your feelings on."

Engagement would initiate, and therefore, we'll create casualties.

"Simon, get to the rooftop. Get your sniper with you, and you'll shoot on our mark, roger?!"

"Copy that, over."

On my perspective, Simon became released from his pressure.

I could feel this apprehension magnifying behind my skin and the wind outside received high with its force. Now, we'll wait for this demise. Last part before killing. The Finest Hour…

From far apart in the hills, I could distinguish dots, moving toward us. They were here, and they were about to murder us.

P90:

A submachine gun, commonly used for defensive circumstances, but as such, it is a piece of war. Don't be fooled by the bull-pup design, as it is formed due to the high ammunition capacity. It originated from Belgium, making its way on the weapons' leaderboard. It fires the 5.7 times 28mm cartridge with rapid-fire. It is a high-fire rate armament, with a healthy capacity of fifty sized magazine. In-depth, it is fast, "like a boss."