The stars of the past were not as filthy as they are now.

The air was scorching, and the fragments of flesh obscured the only light.

The vicious howls of the zombies that pierced the night sky were irritating Mosilare's nerves along with the fierce firing of machine gun batteries.

She could feel her adrenaline pumping in large quantities, reaching an immeasurable peak almost in a short period of time.

After another series of precise shots, a fanatical Mosilaire suddenly entered a magical state of "inspiration".

Beyond the blood mist that burst from the corpses, she could see all the details of the zombies in front of her in the dim light—the twisted old joints, the fragile sternum that was nearly broken, the decaying skin that barely covered the few muscles, and the soft, black entrails that were exposed in their abdomen...... And the pale skulls that had lost their flesh, the disgusting eyeballs covered in thick white puffs, and the fat, active maggots that were coming in and out of some nasal cavities—she could see the strange and wonderful images that only briefly appeared when they were shot in the head by bullets......

The swollen, bloodshot eyeball would first be ejected from the socket by the violently increased pressure within the skull, and then the part of the struck would then sink slightly inward, and the hard, brittle bone would immediately and unstoppably disintegrate from the gap where the charge ejected was like a fragile glass falling to the ground, diffusing the most abstract dynamic shatter.

The scattered small bone fragments often cling to some crimson muscle, yellow and white fat, dirty black skin, or cloudy blood, and occasionally a small amount of pink viscous brain pulp hidden between the fragmented tissues—this flower of death blooming from the back of the zombie's head is not a monotonous white color, but a glittering, colorful, and gorgeous crazy color that is only revealed under the illumination of moonlight, artillery fire, and high-speed bullets!

Therefore, when the first rays of sunlight in the morning pierced through the layers of haze and hit this troubled colonial base, it reflected a terrifying scene: it was a vicious combination of mutilated corpses and countless internal organs and flesh and blood, untouchable ancient sins and taboos.

These massive stinking corpses covered the entire hundreds of square meters of land around, and the corpses that were shot even completely blocked the gate of the base, and the floor on the outer edge was also soaked in foul blood,—— and now exposed to the sun, these black blood will emit an even more unbearable stench, quietly spreading into every crevice in the base.

In the wee hours of the morning, the shattered lunatics even scrambled onto the roof with the flesh of their companion at the doorway, trying to rush into the base through the unclosed skylight of Mosilaire - fortunately, Mosilaire reacted superbly fast, and quickly brought on the steel reinforced skylight after shooting the fastest fool who had almost half of his body into the base.

Almost as soon as she closed the skylight, the violent knocking sound that would have frightened anyone was frantically heard in her ears - God knows what terrible things these crazy living corpses would do when they ran into the base!

It wasn't until the night faded and dawn approached that Mosilaire broke free from the carnage and returned to his former peace and calm.

She didn't know how she managed to hold on - after the charged rifle ran out of power, she found a slender reinforcing steel bar that she could use to kill zombies and defend the base. She felt that she had used it to smash the brains of at least a hundred walking corpses, it must be like this, otherwise how could she be so tired?

Mosilere's hands were trembling violently from the force of the blood plasma, and there were brains, blood, and minced flesh on the slightly distorted steel bars from time to time converging and dripping under the action of gravity, making a disgusting crisp crackling sound.

Eventually, Mosilaire brisked herself and stripped off her blood- and sweat-soaked clothes, scrubbed her body with a little cold water, and fell headlong on the mat, falling asleep from the rotting stench that wafted around the base—she didn't even have time to take a sip of the boiling water that Winnie had brought.

When she awoke from her nightmare, she saw a gentle afterglow of the sunset shining in by the barn window.

She playfully tried to pinch the golden little ones, but finally withdrew her outstretched hand. Feeling the vitality and warmth they conveyed to her skin was enough to soothe her frightened heart.

Mosilele, who was a little dazed, subconsciously pressed the bracelet and made a simple calculation with her blank brain, and then came to the difficult conclusion that she had slept for maybe twelve hours, two hours less than Winnie had at the time, which gave her some psychological comfort.

Mosilaire stared out of the window for a moment before she got up and hugged Peanut, who was napping her with her stocky ass—she had been feeling in her dreams that she couldn't breathe for a reason, and she didn't know how long the clingy spirit had been on her body lately.

Mosilaire looked around, but saw no Winnie. She was a little worried, so she had to whisper her name in a weak voice.

Thankfully, Winnie answered her quickly outside the barn, and kindly brought a bowl of warm boiling water to Mosilaire and fed it to her mouth.

The extremely detached Mosilele could clearly feel the intense soreness of every muscle in her body at the same time when she got up to drink the water, which made her swallow the warm water a little choppy, but she still tried her best to finish it.

Sporadic artillery fire was still heard in the distance, and according to Winnie, it had been going on for a whole day. Mosilaire didn't know what kind of people were resisting the Mechists, but she didn't think it would last long.

Because Mosilele had been in the army, she was really tight. - The marginal planets far from the center of domination are all scum abandoned by society, and all the armaments that can be obtained are only the elimination of several generations of "toys" dug out of the ruins of past civilizations.

The Cybren's armor will be stiffer than the improved lightweight fiberglass, and the charged weapons will easily obliterate any obstacles that stand in the way of the central will. They just slaughtered like this, and then trampled the pride of humanity from the distant stars all the way under the crumbling concrete rebars.

And although Mosilare's military career only lasted a few months due to her father's strong intervention, her right eye was lost forever in this short period of time - fortunately, her family was very wealthy and could afford the high cost of artificial bionic eyes, otherwise Mosilaire could only rely on a meager subsidy to maintain her disabled body in remorse and resentment, like countless Imperial soldiers who retired due to various accidents in this war.

Mosillaire subconsciously felt that money was a jerk, and it was this shameless thing that led to the birth of all kinds of social injustices, but even jerks sometimes have a cute side, don't they?

Mosilaire sighed. At least she knew that there was still a certain amount of civilization on this planet, didn't she?

Tonight's food was Winnie's hot, and although she accidentally fried the bacon and sausages a little burnt, Mosilele didn't hesitate to praise her.

It was only in the middle of their meal that the power of the base suddenly went out, and the barn was suddenly plunged into lightless darkness.

The defense system activated last night had used up almost all of the base's power reserves, and it happened to be a windless sunny day today, so the only wind turbine in the base barely produced any power. Without electricity, the light bulbs would not come on, which strengthened Mosilere's determination to fix the solar generator.

As for tonight, I guess I can only rest early.

Swallowing the last piece of greasy bacon in his stomach, a bored Mosilaire lay on his mat and stared at the barn's air window, through which he looked out at a small starry sky.

She had almost forgotten the last time she had admired the stars in such a quiet way, Mosilaire had loved to pass the time in this way when she was a child, and in the first few days on this planet she had always been accustomed to gazing at the vast sky in her spare time. The twinkling stars always had the magic to reassure her and forget about her hunger and pain for a moment.

She seldom did this after the base was powered on, because she had so much to do, so much to keep busy—and every day she had here to the fullest—far more fulfilling than studying piano and classical dance in the family.

The dim canopy sometimes shone a little by distant artillery fire, and at this time, a few small stars of lower brightness were briefly obscured and disappeared from Mosilare's field of vision.

But more often than not, it's the stars of different sizes and brightness that dominate the night.

Mosilaire brushed her hair from her left earlobe, and her gaze at Winnie's sleeping face softened a lot—oh, yes, and the cute little peanut we were snoring on Winnie's belly.

She winked at the distant stars, then closed her eyes and fell asleep. There's a lot to do tomorrow, like eating, playing with Peanut, or cleaning up the mass of corpses and blood around the base - she's going to go crazy if she keeps smelling like that.

Since all the zombies around them have been cleaned up into minced meat, many of their next jobs will be much more convenient and safer. This is also good news that can be inspiring in the midst of hardship.

When she opened her eyes again, it was already past eight o'clock in the morning, and Mosilaire, who had stretched out pleasantly, felt that her condition had recovered a little, and the soreness in her muscles had lessened a lot, and Winnie had already diligently prepared breakfast for herself, and was cleaning up the blood in the base.

Actually, Winnie has been doing this miserable thing since yesterday, and if you were to rudely compare her industriousness to Peanut, the lazy guy who occasionally leans on you for a petite meal, our Miss Winnie will jump up and stab you in the eye with chopsticks - just kidding, she's a lady, so she'll remember to ask your permission before poking you in the eye.

After breakfast, Mosilaire joined the cleaning team. Buckets and buckets of well water were brought in by Mosilare, and all that was poured out was a terrible black water that smelled of foul odor.

The day's meal was delicious, and Mosilele and Jenny, sitting at the humble table, were able to taste the best of the best in a few pieces of bacon and sausage in the packaged survival food—hard work is the best condiment to whet people's appetites.

Peanuts, who lazily ate some red sausages and then lay on the stove and napped, obviously understood this truth all along. The lazy creature didn't do anything today except spread her shaggy fur evenly over her coat while Winnie took a nap.