The Wasteland lay steeped in profound silence. The night sky was dim, the moonlight faint, barely revealing the outlines of stones and withered grass on the ground. Morning mist swirled, making the barren land seem even more indistinct and distant.
There were no birdsongs or insect cries, only the occasional rustle of grit stirred by a cold wind. This wilderness seemed cut off from the world, utterly empty, as though even time had stopped.
The ground was hard, crisscrossed with cracks that bore the marks of endless years of weathering. Mountains loomed faintly in the distance, standing silent as if they had witnessed every hardship this land had endured.
Occasionally, a gust swept past and lifted a cloud of dust, bleak and indifferent. In that silence, every sign of life seemed so faint, as though any sound could shatter the stillness.
Across the open ground, insects began to stir. They chose this time to forage to avoid their natural predators.
In such surroundings, any slightly louder sound was amplified until it became piercing. Every bullet that flew past kicked up dust and grit, while the footfalls of the mecha were heavier still, each step seeming to shake the earth.
A drone swept overhead, blinking red as it gazed coldly down at the battlefield. Its electronic eye mercilessly scanned every corner, picking up the slightest movement. Wind stirred dust across the battlefield, smoke hung in the air, and occasional flashes of fire and thick clouds from explosions remained visible.
Though the fighting at night was less fierce than during the day, there were still occasional casualties.
Suddenly, the drone began circling overhead.
On the battlefield, a squad of fourth-generation tactical mecha advanced in an orderly formation. Their strides were firm and powerful, each step sending tremors through the earth. Their enormous