Sergeant Latobius rubbed his fingers as he laboriously smoothed the stiff nails and bones as he reloaded his automatic gun.

Then the sergeant picked up the tattered weapon in his hand and leaned it against his face, which felt like a frozen iron pipe in his clothes, but he didn't have time to care.

He got up, stepped on the ammunition box, stuck his head and muzzle out of the trench, and without even aiming, he found his next target: because the enemies that needed to be killed and sniped were simply everywhere.

"Bang! Bang bang! Bang bang ......"

Latobis pulled the trigger, firing sporadically, but it soon turned into a continuous pour, because the scene in front of him made Latobis involuntarily feel fear, and only the frenzied pouring of the deadly steel projectile in his hand could be relieved a little.

The automatic gun spewed tongues of fire, the frenzied recoil crashing against the sergeant's face, causing his teeth to feel like they had been pulled out, and the worst copper shells crackled to the ground with the violent gunfire and scattered all over the trenches.

The sergeant's rifle was not a very delicate and durable weapon, and every time it fired a bullet, it was accompanied by the loudest and most piercing sound, which was the sizzling of the radiator, to ensure that the untested weapon would not blow off the barrel of the weapon because it had been fired for a long time.

But Latobis could no longer hear it, even though the gun in his hand told him with a frantic tremor how violent the sound was, he could no longer hear it, blood was already pouring from his ears, and there was a rumbling sound dozens or even hundreds of times around him.

It was a real trench, not the small earthen trench that had been garrisoned by Latobis, more than two metres deep, held in place by piles of sandbags, and crisscrossed by circles of barbed wire and mines, crisscrossed like a spider lying on the ground.

More than 5,000 soldiers are standing out in this vast war grave, armed with the most backward guns and bombs in the empire, either peeking out of sandbags and firing at any cost, tossing and turning in the muddy ground of the trenches, carrying ammunition, or going to support those in worse condition, with crooked gutters and empty ammunition boxes beneath their feet.

And in the center of the trench, wrapped in a not very regular artillery position, and several concrete machine-gun pillboxes, which are constantly pouring tongues of fire, they are the core of this trench that has spread for more than ten kilometers, and it is also the reason why these thousands of people can hold out.

Latobis patted his ears, but he couldn't hear anything: it was so noisy, too noisy all around him, there were thousands of guns firing at the same time, dozens of guns roaring together, thousands of soldiers or cannon fodder who were not warriors were roaring, wailing, spitting, crying, struggling, vomiting......

The trench was resisting, just like this burning world, roaring and paying the price: because there was no time to clean up, the wet ground was now littered with lifeless corpses, some with missing arms and legs, others with missing heads, and the blood flowed without money, staining the whole trench a foul-smelling, dull red.

After the last bullet had been missed, Latobis retreated into the trench, his legs and stomach were weak, shaking uncontrollably, like his arms, he tried to wipe his sweat, but he could not lift his hands, and could only let the beads of sweat flow into his eyes, bringing a tingling pain.

But even so, Latobis reached into the ammunition box beside him, numbly counted the bullets, and installed them one by one, all quietly and logically, he didn't even feel his arm doing these things, as if he were just a bystander.

He tried to take a deep breath, but he inhaled indescribable stench: the smell of dead bodies, the urine of cowards, the smell of gunpowder, the stench of earth, and the indescribable smell of war in the air.

"Enemy attack!!"

I don't know who roared, as if he had been injected with the best adrenaline, Latobis almost jumped to his feet and picked up his gun again.

——————

Latobis had thought that the trench was strong and noisy enough, after all, what more could he ask for: there were more than 5,000 people here, with cannons, machine guns, and plenty of supplies, and he even thought he could stay here until he died of old age.

But it wasn't until the war really burned here that Latobis remembered something: before, in that world called Xana, they had a larger army, more terrible heavy artillery, and better fortifications, but they were still defeated and crushed.

That's why.

Because they are at odds with nature.

And people, at least these people, can never defeat [nature].

Randan began to attack again, and Latobis could only hear a horn blowing on the distant horizon, a horn that made people feel inexplicably depressed and frightened.

Then, there was the vibration.

What a tremor it was, as if a mountain was running, as if thousands of bison were rushing together, and even the stones and bullet casings on the ground were jumping around because of the tremor, and they kept making a crackling sound.

Closer, closer.

“…… Gollum ......"

Latobis swallowed as he raised his gun, and through the scope, he could faintly see a black wave sweeping in.

Ran Dan is here.

Ran Dan's attack is the power of [nature], a black wave, a mountain of collapse, and one terrible natural disaster after another that cannot be resisted.

The first was a scream, a terrible howl that pierced the sky, the sound of the wails of countless humans and unknown creatures, tormenting everyone's eardrums over and over again: that alone was enough to destroy the softest of the guys.

Then, Ran Dan's [Vanguard] appeared.

The ragged army came into view of all the defenders, or rather, it was not an army at all, but an army of slaves through and through: from one side of the horizon to the other, all kinds of unclothed slaves, some of them human, some of them even wearing the same uniform as Latobis, while the rest were strangely shaped aliens with three legs, five eyes, six arms, or more unrecognizable organs.

But one thing was the same: the look on their faces, the numbness and despair, was enough to make the bravest soldiers unconsciously sweat.

The people of Randan don't know what technology was used, maybe it was some kind of witchcraft, maybe it was some kind of poison, anyway, those blasphemous aliens made something more terrible than death.

"Fire!"

I don't know who gave the order, maybe it was the officer who didn't know anyone, maybe it was just the random shouts of a panicked soldier, but the sound was quickly drowned out by a torrential rain of gunfire.

All the soldiers were firing, all the soldiers were screaming, their churning saliva evaporating in the hot air through which the bullets flew, and only in this way could they ease their fear and anxiety a little, and in the very center of the camp, the cannons could not wait to roar again.

The barrage of steel is a merciless crusher, in the thousands of guns and muzzles, those pathetic cannon fodder are torn to pieces, blown up completely, and the only remaining unfortunate continue to advance numbly, until they reach the dense mines, and they can be crushed.

Tens of thousands of cannon fodder were consumed in this way, and no one mourned their deaths, and when Latobis filled the magazine again, all that was left in front of him was a few twisted flesh balls: the most unfortunate ones actually dodged the salvation of bullets and artillery fire, and struggled to crash headlong into the barbed wire, and dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of living people and aliens rolled against each other in the barbed wire, squeezing each other, and their scarred bodies flowed red or blood of all colors, and those rotten pieces of meat that have long been hung on the barbed wire, glued together, making people can't stop nauseating.

Finally, Latobis raised his gun, and countless others around him were doing so, and with another burst of fire and volleys, the last struggle gradually stopped.

Latobis even thinks he has done a good deed: he sent these guys to a quiet world, and he suffered here.

But just then, he heard the barbed wire moan of overwhelm: the carefully placed death trap had withstood two rounds of onslaught, and now, like the minefield in front of it, had come to an end of its own.

And almost at the same time, Latobis heard that horn again.

This time, it seems extraordinarily heavy.

Soon, another army appeared on the skyline.

Latobis was once again full of magazines, and he thought it was another battle like before, but he froze when the opponents appeared in his field of vision.

This is also a mixed army of slaves, but unlike the deplorables who have come before, this time Latobis is presented with a terrifying alien creature three or five meters tall, covered in scale armor; There are at least six xenomorphs in hand, holding six guns, and a mouthful of intimidating fangs; And a little further up there are some strange creatures floating around, also holding guns, which at first glance are nothing, but look closely......

His grandmother's, can fly!

At this moment, when he saw tens of thousands of such bulls, ghosts, snakes, and gods rushing towards his trenches, Latobis had only one thought.

——————

It's over.

——————

The trenches were breached.

Thousands of monsters poured in, turning this fortified fortification into the purest form of hell.

The artillery positions had been silent since the flying aliens had rushed in, except for a creepy creaking sound.

The concrete and steel machine-gun fortresses lasted the longest, until a band of crazy men sprang out from among the slaves, their flamethrowers in their hands like deadly deaths, turning fortress after fortress into blazing graves of fire and howl.

Latobis ran wildly in the trenches, still holding the gun in his hand, running in panic like a mouse without direction or goal, and behind him there were screams and screams that resounded through the sky, and he did not dare to look back.

He turned corner after corner, colliding with countless fellows, his helmet lost in the confusion as the crowd trampled on those who had fallen unfortunately, and the last pack of ammunition at his waist disappeared at some unknown time.

But he still held the gun.

"Here! Latobis! Over here! ”

He heard someone calling for him, and then he turned his head to see Tigray standing on the edge of the trench beckoning to him: the second lieutenant's coat had been lost somewhere, his uniform had been torn open by something, and even the innermost dark skin and chest hair could be seen.

He used to call himself by his own name.

In the confusion, the first thing that flashed through Latobis's mind was this emotion.

Almost with the last of his strength and courage, Latobis ran over, Tigray pulled him, and the two men staggered out of the trench, covered in muddy water and foul-smelling blood.

"Run...... Run......"

Latobis could only hear the wheezing.

They got up and ran desperately, the cold air sucked into their lungs, it hurt like a knife, the stones clung to the soles of their boots, and they could even hear the squeaking of the bones in their calves, but they didn't dare to stop.

I don't know how long they ran, maybe five kilometers, maybe ten kilometers, they rolled behind a rock, lay down with their hands and feet, and couldn't run anymore.

For a few minutes, they just gasped, desperately gasping for air.

"Ensign...... Your letter ......"

Latobis looked into Tigray's chest, and he saw the torn gap, where Tigray's cherished letters were placed.

Tigray touched it at once, then again, then he rummaged through all his pockets, over and over again, and then, he collapsed again, his head down, just gasping for air.

"Maybe it's lost there...... It's okay...... It's okay...... The two of us are better alive than anything else. ”

"Wait a little longer and see if anyone runs out and joins us."

So, they waited a little longer, but they didn't wait for anyone, and finally, they decided to continue their escape, and the two figures disappeared into the bitter cold night of Sabis 4.

Latobis looked back at his brief abode: it had burned completely, orange-red flames with billowing smoke all the way to the sky.

At this moment, Latobis had only one thought.

Fought for so long, from Xana to here.

He still didn't know what those [Ran Dan] looked like.

——————

Somewhere.

Several Dark Angels stood in an obscure room, with a map in between.

"In the D14 area, a line of defense has just been breached."

"Are there any losses?"

"It's just some mortals, after all, it's just a definite line of defense on the periphery, and no one should run out."

The Dark Angel, who was looking at the map, nodded.

"Got it."

"In any case, what we need to ensure is the smooth implementation of [the plan]."

Then, no one paid attention to it anymore.