A costly victory on the eastern front, and the western front lost.
Blood Rust Factory was proving difficult to capture, and their rear had come under attack. Caught between two enemies, the rebel army faced total annihilation. That was how their uprising seemed destined to end!
Gork's mind went blank. He sat motionless, stunned.
At that moment, he had no mind to blame or berate Weston for his foolish decision to conceal the western front's battle reports.
The entire rebel army had truly reached the end of the road. There was nowhere left to turn!
No!
Absolutely not!
Suppressing his fury, Gork growled into the communications channel, "Where's Weston? Get him on the line!"
If they had only lost the western front, perhaps they still had a chance!
If Weston could regroup his forces, halt the collapse, and pull them back to Rust Canyon, they might still be able to hold out and buy themselves some precious time.
But the voice of the communications officer on the other end trembled, breaking into a sob. "Weston, he..."
The sound cast a shadow of dread over Gork's heart.
"What happened to him?"
"Commander, Weston was captured by the enemy. He... surrendered!"
The words struck like a thunderclap!
The communications officer's words were the final straw!
Gork's pupils contracted. "Y-You said what?"
"Weston has surrendered to the enemy, Commander." The communications officer was crying too hard to speak clearly. "And he betrayed us. He exposed every western-front comrade's position. We... we've been scattered!"
How could this... happen?
Gork slumped in his chair, as despair gnawed at him like a maggot in the shadows, leaving him chilled to the bone.
Weston's betrayal had exposed the entire western-front defense plan, and the troops had been scattered. That meant... his plan to gather the defeated western-front