The swastika flag fluttered over Britain, and oval-shaped behemoths interspersed in the air, light and heat converged into one piece, constantly scattering in all directions, and the shock wave seemed to tear through the air, distorting and expanding in the field of vision. It was still morning, but there was no shadow of the sun, and when I breathed, I could only hear the muffled sound of breathing coming from the simple air filter mask, and my throat and lungs were like stagnant soot that had not yet been extinguished, and every agitation would stinging and burning. The soldiers crawled through the trenches, not even the thought of cursing the ghost weather could rise. The battlefield is so eerie and terrifying, and the deadly crisis is constantly hovering around, making it impossible to tell which direction it is coming from.

The soldier's body was already completely soaked, and the black rain was not only cold, but also made the body feel numb. Many people fall ill as a result, and even if they don't die immediately, the diagnosis is hopeless. No one knows why the world has become the way it is, the war came too suddenly, and although it seems to have been prepared at the national level, for the public, the official leaked information is not enough for them to restore the truth. Most soldiers only know that the Nazis have made a comeback, and after more than half a century, even if there has never been a break in the moral trial of the Nazis, as well as the baptism of various film and television works, but time is enough for people born in peacetime to realize the real horror of the Nazis. It wasn't until the sudden arrival of war, when the Nazis proved their cruelty and horror, that people were reminded of the gloom that had hung over the world half a century ago, and now it seemed to travel through time and space to cover the world again.

The heavy clouds, haze, and black rain that had not dispersed for a long time were full of radiation, and everything exposed to the surface had been contaminated, and plants, animals, and water sources had taken on a terrible gray decay. Even if you are not on the battlefield, you can't see any life. The soldiers missed the prison-like underground shelter, but in order for the shelter to survive, they had to face the dreaded swastika flag.

Fear has always been there, and soldiers, whether voluntarily or forcibly conscripted, have no energy to complain. Many people died crying, and in the face of the brutal truth, it didn't make much difference whether they fought up or scared out - eighty percent of them would die, and then the recruits would be replenished, handed over to the survivors to manage, and the new battle would continue. Counting with numbers, bravery won't make you live longer. Cowardice will not make you die faster, life and death, separated from personal intellect and character, this is a painful and hopeless thing.

If 80% of everything you do will die on the battlefield, then how to deal with this chance of death is the biggest difference between soldiers. The soldiers who were crawling through the trenches had thought about how they should face it, but in reality. He can only act intuitively according to his own personality and personality. All thoughts, in the face of deadly artillery fire. They all look extremely pale. And judging from his behavior, he is probably the kind of person who has to try to struggle even if he inevitably dies.

The soldier raised his head and peered into the smoke-filled sky, although the weather was overcast, like night. But the phenomena produced by light and heat never disappeared over the battlefield. Bird-like steel creatures swept across the sky, whistling, circling, fluttering, and then being struck. Their opponents are larger airships, each of which is as if it were mounted with steel plates tens of meters thick, which is difficult to shake. The soldier was numb, and he could not count how many planes and pilots the British flying forces had lost on this battlefield, or rather, he still counted at first, but later, just to keep himself alive, he had exhausted his mental strength, and did not want to bother to remember more things, including the names of his comrades. The companion who has just met will fall next to him the next moment, and he will feel sad and angry at first, and will want to take back his nameplate and remember his name, but when the companion dies too quickly and too much, it will be different. Just now, the soldier witnessed a comrade-in-arms being torn apart by artillery fire, and he could only watch indifferently, that comrade-in-arms was only equivalent to a "stranger" who had just told you his name and had not even had time to learn about other situations in normal social interactions.

Half a day or a day, eating, sleeping, and pulling the trigger, already occupy nine-tenths of the time, and the rest of the time is simply not enough for people to get to know their fellow people.

The soldier continued to crawl forward, and he had not fired a single shot today, which he felt was a blessing in his mind, because it was rare for him not to shoot and not be affected by the fire. When he first entered the battlefield, he was broken two fingers by the debris lifted by the impact, and after shuttling three times on the front line, there was no one intact place on his body, and in just three days, he went from a rookie who knew nothing about the battle to a veteran, and then in the harsh environment full of radiation, he had to amputate half of the sole of his foot, in addition, the operation of the internal organs of the body is not as good as day by day, obviously three days ago he was a strong stick boy, and he could level five women in one night, and now? He felt that if he could climb into bed, he probably wouldn't open his eyes again, and he would sleep so weakly.

He injected himself with a large amount of drugs to stimulate his spirit and body, and he would not lose the opportunity to struggle before this local battle was over, and as for the consequences of overdose of drugs, he had long since stopped thinking about it. It was precisely because he felt the breath of death that it seemed to be in his ears, so he didn't want to think about the future at all, he just wanted to find a suitable object now, to end the other party, or to be turned out by the other party.

He had a not-so-clear goal - a Nazi who had noticed ten minutes earlier, stronger than any Nazi soldier he had seen in the past. Even in such a fierce battlefield, the other party still maintains a more neat posture than others, the rank or something, probably a captain, there is an iron cross on his chest, which means that he once made great achievements for the Nazi legion, killing British soldiers...... Or is there something else, such as the capture of an underground shelter? Slaughtered hundreds of ordinary people? In short, the other side has made outstanding contributions to the Nazis, so it must have caused a lot of damage to their own side. Such people. A formidable enemy, but by far the most valuable prey a soldier has ever noticed - if he had been placed earlier, he would have felt like his prey, but once he decided to fight with the last of his life. On the contrary, I don't feel that the other party is still standing at the top of the food chain.

Choosing such a terrible enemy as the prey, the chance of killing the other party is less than one percent, and the chance of one's own death is almost one hundred percent, it is naturally ridiculous and stupid to speak with the number jù theory. However, what a human being judges about whether his actions are stupid, whether they are feasible, and whether they should do them is often not always purely rational. The same goes for soldiers. The elements that support him to continue in this way are less than one-tenth of rational. On this battlefield, he encountered all kinds of situations that he had never encountered in his life, and these memories, even if he did not deliberately recall them, were like scorching magma, penetrating into every vein and every cell of his blood vessels little by little. Drive him crazy, make him numb. He couldn't really calm the throbbing in his heart.

The dead, the living, hovered in his mind like ghosts, and the things he could see in his vision were no longer what they used to be. He could hear a lot of sounds. Smelling all sorts of smells, these things made him nauseous, however, they faded little by little, leaving only a black-red hue. without any shape. Hell is just around the corner, and in the end, the images that remain in his mind are only the people he loves the most—relatives, lovers, family, friends, those who have a good attitude, or those who have a bad attitude, who try to forget, who try to remember, all become extremely clear in this hell of light and heat.

Then, in the soldier's mind, this sentence came to mind: from the moment man is born, he shoulders his own mission, and no matter what kind of person he is, what kind of life he is living, at the moment when he awakens this mission, he will become a brave man. He didn't want to be a brave man, if time went backwards, and he had a choice at that time, he would choose to escape from this battlefield, but time would not go back, and he never had a choice, and from the moment he stepped on this battlefield, it seemed that everything was doomed.

Yes, if this qiē is predestined, if you must face death, you must give your life to save someone—to use your own tiny strength like a grain of sand to integrate into the temple that you are destined not to see with your own eyes. So—

"I chose to die as a hero, even if it looked like a clown." Such thoughts, like lightning, shattered all his hesitation, fear, and regret, and everything in his vision seemed transparent and insignificant except for the Nazi captain who wore the Iron Cross.

He tightened his grip on the handle of his gun, glared at the Nazi captain vigorously, and immediately retracted his head into the trench. The shrapnel of the burst struck the earth and rocks around him into a cloud of dust, and the suffocating heat distorted the scene in the trench, followed by a fierce wind that blew the corpse to the ground and rolled. And he was prepared, stuck the dagger on the ground and stabilized his body. He didn't leave his place, and from that moment of staring, he was already carrying out the most feasible plan in his mind. Three days, just three days, he already understood what kind of existence the Nazis he was going to face.

They are not human beings – no matter how many sentences are explained, this one sentence is enough.

These Nazis had the appearance of human beings, but they were only appearances, their bodies, their souls, were completely alien beings. They don't feel fear, they don't die, they fight, they just go crazy, and they don't feel like they're blood, they're running like they're something. Any one of them, whether it is combat awareness, experience, or physical elements, is more powerful than the so-called "soldier kings" that soldiers have ever seen, they seem to be impossible to kill, and even if they are cut off by the waist and their heads are blown up, they will get back up again in a short time. They are not the brainless "necromancers" of graphic fiction, nor are they the "vampires" that daylight, crosses, and garlic can fight off, but they possess similar or greater survivability, as well as intelligence above the standard of ordinary people.

They are like another kind of intelligent beings in human skin, intelligent beings born for battle and slaughter. Their behavior is like a massacre that can suck the souls of the dead and grow themselves. From the eyes of ordinary people, they have few shortcomings, and even so, they are still going to die. If the opponent of this war is a monster that cannot be killed no matter what method is. Then there was no need for the soldiers to hold on to this desperate counterattack.

Yes, the fighting here is desperate, the enemy is so strong that the defenses have never been in order. The line of defense also continued to retreat, and little by little it approached London, the capital of Britain. However, these are the enemies of the "monsters", and they are still unable to push down all the resistance in one fell swoop. Their airships still had to be pushed slowly, their soldiers were still being sniped by more British soldiers, and then, with every step they took had to come at a price. Including outright death.

During the three days of war, the soldier once felt that he could be involved in the footsteps of the Nazis as ordinary people, and it seemed that the casualties were so severe that it seemed that the whole line would collapse in the next moment, but that did not happen after all, and before he arrived on the battlefield, the form of the war seemed to be like this - although the British army kept retreating. But still insisting, and. It seems like it could have lasted much longer.

The soldiers did not know if this was an illusion, and even if it was, Britain had no choice, and the Nazis came to this war with the will to destroy it. What they did was not at all aimed at occupying the country. To enslave the people of this country and obtain the fruits of victory in the war, it is more like completely destroying the country, destroying all the British people, and turning what you see into scorched earth. Let all souls wail. And they can get an incomparable sense of pleasure through this kind of death, pain, fear and despair.

This is no longer a process of human cannibalism, but an act of foreign bodies to exterminate human beings - in the past, the Nazis have always been preaching anti-humanity, but until this time, when we face it for myself, we can realize what it means to be "anti-human". It is an act that everyone must dislike and resist, and the other party has always done it with a normal heart. Things that are unacceptable to human morality and instinct have been staged again and again to the point that people feel numb.

It suddenly occurred to the soldier that he seemed to have thought too many things in this last moment—things that he would not normally think of, that he did not have the energy to think about, as if they were all about to come out in this second. He was in a trance, as if that second had been stretched to an incredible length. And when his gaze refocused, his own shadow reflected by the firelight became a little strange, and in the turbid stagnant water that was also reflected by the firelight, there was a vague shadow—it was not only his own, but the thing stood on the trench behind him, looking at himself with an evil attitude, unscrupulously.

The prey came, in the same way as he expected. Although his back was facing away and his eyes could not directly see his posture, the strong sensation made his whole body tremble with pain and fear like a soldering iron. However, the next moment, his body, which had lost all his strength, suddenly rolled under the gaze of the other party. A force, perhaps called "courage," drove him to fire at his side.

The moment the bullet flew out, he lost the grip of the firearm. His arm was broken by the Nazis like pinching a match, and the next moment, the Nazi figure approached again, so fast that he couldn't think, and only felt as if the other party was teleporting. However, the oil and explosives buried next to him also exploded as he wished, and the only bullet that could be fired finally completed his mission.

So, my mission......

The soldier's thoughts did not continue, and as the flames engulfed each other's figures, an arc of light flashed from the Nazis' side. At the last moment of his life, the soldier seemed to see clearly, it was a dagger. The dagger cut through my own skin, and the cold and hard feeling swept me over my cervical vertebrae so lightly. Before the pain came, the front was already stained scarlet, and then it was rolled by the tongue of fire, and nothing could be seen.

The soldier's head was blown away by the impact of the explosion, and when it fell to the ground, only a third of the skull remained, and an eyeball fell from the fire a meter away, and it was charred black. And his prey, the Nazi captain with the Iron Cross, was as straight and well-dressed as he had come, and walked out of the flames with a dagger. In the end, he was the only one left in this trench, but it could not make him have the slightest expression, not even the fun and joy of other ordinary Nazi soldiers, like a cold statue.

He stepped out of the trench step by step, not caring what he had done before, just looking for the next target with his eyes. The artillery fire was only a stone's throw away from him, and it almost filled the trenches, but neither the dust, nor the bullets, nor the debris left any more wounds or stains on his body. He stood out, and he was the only one standing on the ground in this area.

The Nazi captain seemed to have decided on the next target, and he was about to move forward, but the next moment, his body froze, and like a stimulated tiger, he assumed a defensive posture. Before he realized it, he had never put on any driving, whether it was attacking or defending, he didn't need such deliberate movements, because the qiē needed for battle had already melted into the depths of his instincts. Because of this, he quickly realized that his reaction was extremely new, weird, and undeserved.

And this reaction was brought about by the direction he was facing at this time—something was approaching. Before he could confirm it, it had appeared a few meters away.

It was a man, dressed in a black trench coat, with his head and face hidden under a hood, and a crow standing on his shoulder, dressed in no way like a soldier. He crouched down and put his burnt eyeballs into the heads of the remaining one-third of the soldiers. The Nazi captain couldn't understand the act, and he thought the crow was staring at him intently, even if its head was facing the soldier's corpse like the man's.

There was no dialogue, because there was no need, and the Nazi captain knew that the guy in front of him was the strongest enemy he had ever seen - I don't know how strong it was, but the real "strong" was only judged by life and death. He burst out and galloped forward as fast as he could, his dagger slicing through the battlefield where the artillery was blaring.

The speed beyond the normal visual range of a human makes him like a ghost, and even his eyes are shining, like ghost fire in the haze. He swung the dagger in the most accustomed and standard way, although because of his special sense of the comer, he did not feel that the other party had no backhand, but when the dagger was really pierced on the other party, it really surprised him.

The man didn't make any resistance, and just let his dagger go up. However, the feeling that came from me didn't feel like I was stuck in it at all. The Nazi captain was about to pull back immediately, and whether it was attacking or retreating, he was extremely fast, without any hesitation or superfluous movements. This sharpness and speed allowed him to defeat many enemies who gave him a powerful feeling, but this time, it was completely ineffective.

He only felt empty in front of him, and then he was clamped to the back of his head by a huge force, and then the world in his eyes spun, and when he spun behind him, he saw the face of that person. The hood was blown open by the impact of the explosion around it, and hidden underneath was the handsome face of a young man, but it was not anything outstanding. The only thing that people care about is that there seems to be some strange light and shadow constantly flowing in his left eye.

The Nazi captain's head was pinched and exploded, but his body retreated at a faster rate. Even without a head, he could still feel the changes in his surroundings through the skin of his body—and the young man he was sure he couldn't fight suddenly appeared beside him in a way he couldn't perceive. He knew what it was, not because the other party had the ability to teleport, but simply because the odd young man in the trench coat was too fast. Just as he used to face ordinary soldiers, and the illusion of ordinary soldiers, now this position is reversed, and compared to this young man in a trench coat, he is as fragile as an "ordinary soldier". (To be continued......)