"Loading complete!" Matt, responsible for loading the Destroyer mortar, shouted. The battlefield outside had taken on the colors of the apocalypse, and things inside the tank were not much better.
Demas silently and swiftly controlled the mortar, doing his best to let this slow-loading weapon take as many enemies with it as possible. He fired at a fortification that might have been a bunker.
Boom!
The thunderous blast echoed through the entire tank hull. The sharp hiss of firing smoke venting from the barrel filled the suffocating air, while countless spent casings poured down into the collection container. Lieutenant Terry was run ragged, processing vast amounts of data and passing the carefully considered results to the others.
The massive shell traced a slow arc, foretelling the deaths of everyone in an area. When you could plainly see a huge black shadow coming straight at you, dodging and seeking cover were already pointless. To put it more bluntly, if your cover could run, it would definitely hide behind you.
Yet in that moment of crisis, the instinct to survive still drove the doomed crowd into futile action. They ran out of the bunker, while the nearby tanks threw themselves into reverse and retreated at speed.
Then the apocalypse descended.
The heavy shell smashed through the bunker's upper level, the ceiling of the first basement, the ceiling of the second basement, and all the way down to the deepest level. Then it detonated. Fire and shockwaves rampaged through the bunker's complex interior like a pack of rugby players charging at full speed through your wooden shack.
No matter which corner they hid in, the flames and shockwaves killed them. The release of such immense energy even shattered the foundations, and rubble and metal struck the already dead bodies a second time.
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