Era 22, March 5, Year 24, 6:11 a.m., -5°C
Morning came to the wasteland. As usual, the darkness of midnight had been replaced by a faint gray-blue hue.
In the two kilometers between the fortress and the wasteland, the only things that could truly be called shelters were those crudely piled-up outposts. As for the white tents around them, on a freezing night, they were no more valuable than a pleasant dream—if that.
The cold wind poured in through the gaps, carrying coarse sand with it. The 2nd Company had endured worse days, but none of them had shaken Yushikin's resolve to fight as much as this one.
He lifted the door flap and climbed the six-meter wooden observation post. After kicking awake the drowsy sentry, he leaned his head over the railing, taking in the entire defensive line at a glance.
Slanted sharpened stakes, half-meter breastworks, and dozens of watchtowers—this was Aswan Fortress's first line of defense, stretching east to west and extending all the way to the flanks of the second line. From his perspective, it was hard to believe any enemy would attack such a line head-on. With breech-loading rifles becoming widespread, attack and defense had become a purely numerical game.
Their regiment had only recently been transferred to the fortress, yet they had already been dragged out of warm barracks and sent here. The few tents were now crammed with shivering soldiers. These were his men: 2nd Company, 3rd Battalion, 13th Infantry Regiment. After the last count, excluding the sick and the dead, the company had 155 men in total, including four platoons.
Yushikin pulled his greatcoat tighter around himself. Its rough collar scraped against his chin, and only then did he seem to realize that he had not shaved in five or six