"Shit, this is bad." He met the next shambling undead head-on, his power armor delivering a crushing blow. His right hand clutched a powered knife, its blade dulled from the relentless chopping of undead flesh.
"We're all gonna die here," a comrade's voice crackled through the comms, his own power armor echoing the grim reality in the other sector.
"Yeah," Joel replied, his voice strained as he hacked away at the undead with his dulled knife, "Remember the training? When there's no way out..."
"Overload the fuel cell," his friend finished, a tremor of fear in his voice. "Don't let the armor fall into enemy hands. But..." he hesitated, "that means getting cooked from the inside out. Hot enough to melt titanium."
"According to the manual," Joel said, his voice flat as he continued dispatching undead, "our brains shut down first. We won't feel a thing."
Joel, a volunteer from Texas, had nothing left to lose. He'd lost everything when the Confederacy took Austin. His house, his wife, his son – all gone. His wife, beautiful as she was, likely suffered a fate far worse in a concentration camp.
His son, sold to the Confederacy just days before Texas' reclamation, later, he found out that his son died, became a victim of the Confederacy desperate weapon experiments.
Fueled by anger and resentment, Joel volunteered for the new recruits, pushing himself to the limit. His performance earned him a coveted power armor suit, transforming him into a ruthless killing machine. His sole purpose: strangle the life out of Supreme General Moore, the one who caused all of this, with his bare hands. But that dream seemed elusive now.
He refused to die here!
"Come on, you rotting corpses! I'll smash all your brain out of your skull!" he roared, activating his power armor's ultra-intensity mode. His arms, a blur of motion, dispatched the surrounding undead with brutal efficiency.
Joel watched, mesmerized by the CEO's awe-inspiring display of skill and prowess. In that moment, a single desire flared within him: to be just like Cao Cao, the leader of Astral PMC.
Cao Cao spearheaded the charge, Astral PMC troops trailing close behind. Their heavy weaponry roared to life – autocannons and high-caliber miniguns unleashing a torrent of bullets that ripped through the undead horde like a scythe through weeds. The scene was a brutal ballet of destruction.
Another explosion erupted from a nearby pod. Undead were flung aside like ragdolls by the force, a speeding truck barreling through them. A metallic boom echoed as a colossal, four-meter-tall walker emerged from the smoke, crushing another group of zombies under its mechanized limbs.
This mechanical marvel transformed its arm into a flamethrower, spewing forth a long stream of holy golden fire that incinerated the approaching undead. The other arm morphed into a large-caliber minigun, spraying bullets into the remaining ranks.
Witnessing this spectacle, the US soldiers trapped inside a nearby building erupted in cheers, a surge of hope rekindled. They too joined the fray, fighting back with renewed vigor.
Another pod slammed into the ground. Its hatch hissed open, revealing a trove of weaponry – light machine guns, rifles, submachine guns, grenades – a lifeline for the desperate soldiers.
"Brothers! Here's your chance to fight back!" Cao Cao roared, raising his jian sword high. "Now come, fight for your right to live!"
The soldiers erupted in cheers once more, pouring out of the building under the protective cover of Astral PMC troopers. They rearmed themselves, the power armor soldiers replacing their depleted fuel cells and grabbing fresh weapons from the cache.
Joel met Cao Cao's gaze, and the CEO acknowledged him with a curt nod. "You fought well, soldier," he said. "Your tenacity bought us enough time to have permission to deploy reinforcements for your rescue."
"Permission?" Joel echoed, a knot of unease forming in his stomach. Something about Cao Cao's words didn't sit right.
"Oh, it's nothing," Cao Cao brushed him off with a dismissive wave. "Just bureaucratic red tape and chain of command nonsense. Nothing for you to worry about."