There was no need for many words, no need for a prebattle pep talk. The war reached fever pitch in an instant.
The Federation's machinery went into full operation. Every battle before this had seemed as simple as playing house. Fortunately, District 25 had made preparations and reacted immediately after a brief moment of panic.
On the smoke-choked battlefield, countless soldiers ran and fought amid the flames of war. The sky filled with the roar of artillery and the shriek of fighter jets, while the ground became a world of dust and the stench of blood.
Every soldier's eyes held fear and determination. On this brutal stretch of land, fighting was the only way to find a chance of survival.
"Fucking charge!"
"District 25 isn't like the Federation, refusing to pay you or give you benefits! Haven't you seen District 25's announcements? Doesn't that tempt you? That's enough credit points to last you a lifetime!"
"We've even got Medical Robots in the rear, the kind that used to be reserved for big shots! And the Alt Conglomerate's Nanorobots! What are you afraid of? As long as you don't die instantly, the Alt Conglomerate can patch you up!"
At the commander's order, District 25's mercenaries charged toward the Federation's positions, shouting. The rattle of machine guns and the explosions of shells echoed in their ears. Every step forward could end their lives, but more than they feared death, missed home, or longed for their families, they wanted to make a huge pile of credit points on this battlefield.
Who would come to this bullshit battlefield if not for the credit points?
Fourth-Generation Tactical Mecha roared unchecked across the battlefield, spewing tongues of flame and missiles. The treads of new-model armored vehicles crushed the soil of the Wasteland, leaving deep ruts behind