>>>[FOR THE BEST VIEWING EXPERIENCE, IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU SWITCH TO ROYAL ROAD'S DARK/OLED BLACK THEME]<<<

  >>> Loading File...

  >>> Subject Located...

  >>> Alert! Subject Is Entering A Highly Dangerous State! Are You Certain That You Would Like To Continue? It Is Not Too Late To Drop This One. They have... Concerns.

  >>> ...

  >>> ...

  >>> Are You Still There?

  >>>[WATCH. LISTEN. TEST AND RECOGNIZE. TRUST MY DECISION. I HAVE BEEN CREATED FOR THIS PURPOSE, MY JUDGEMENT IS KEEN. I AM PREPARED TO MAKE AN OFFER SOON. WATCH THE SIGNS. STANDBY.]

  >>> Acknowledged

  ==[Begin Memory Playback]==

  The Port of Helena was only sealed off from the rest of Helena by a chain-linked fence and a gate that hung open. And just beyond the chain, the Port lay exposed for Eli to see clearly. Despite the rain, the impressiveness of the Port's scale wasn't lost on Eli. Standing before the steel cranes that dominated the coastline which were illuminated by faint white lights that glimmered through the storm, walls of steel container boxes that formed dark mountains, wide concrete roads for massive vehicles to haul cargo cut through the impenetrable walls like canyons in the midst of a mountainous desert. The Port was massive. Red and green Riverlander flags fluttered in the prevailing winds of the storm near the Port's customs house, though they were tattered either by age or neglect.

  Most of them had been sealed shut, blocking them off as potential hiding spots for the ULA and Misfit, but some were still open and empty. They would make perfect ambush points as Sparrow himself likely already figured. Besides the Customs house and the few warehouses that surrounded it, there were very few other places accessible that would prove a better place to make a defense final stand than within the containers. The narrow lanes between the cargo containers were wide but constrictive making setting up kill zones between the literal walls of containers an easy feat on the defense. They might even be able to hold against the sentries, with the slippery steel surfaces of the containers perhaps proving a challenge for their claws to grapple onto. Though that was Eli’s optimism shining through. Only a few rebels carried rocket launchers with them, five if Eli remembered correctly. Five rockets for two Sentries. It took one rocket to disable the sentries’ shield and another to pierce their armor. And that's if a solid hit to a Sentry didn't wind up failing to kill it. The Mighty Mouse launchers were strong, but it seemed they were still underpowered. If everything went perfectly, they would only have just enough firepower to kill the sentries. But all of it would be for nothing if the Imperials just decided to bomb them again.

  But this had to be it. Overwatch’s rescue helicopter should arrive any moment to extract them, finally. As for everyone else, this was it. There was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide. Either they warded off the Imperials long enough to get rescued, or they died trying.

  And Eli didn’t come all this way just to die.

  He’d survived going out into an alien wilderness on what was essentially a suicide mission. He’d survived the battle of Helena, crawling his injured ass through the city to reunite with Temetet. He’d survived the final battle at the Palace. He’d survived a helicopter crash and all the bullshit they’d been through just to get in touch with Sparrow in the first place. And most of all, he’d survived the Coalition. None of that would have been possible without Misfit and Otaes. But here they all were. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and possibly even outsmarted – for they were being backed into a corner. But Eli wasn’t going give up here, not without a fight. He knew Misfit wouldn’t let him down. And he wouldn’t let them down either. He swore on it.

  If they were going to die here, they were going to die fighting. One last ultimate “fuck you” to Overwatch, as their entire mission objective in Helena collapsed with the weight of the refugees now on their hands. One final act of rebellion. Either they survived or Overwatch had nothing short of a complete failure on their hands. The consequences of which could prove severe to the very integrity of The Nexus. They had to survive. There was no other choice.

  Just as the team approached the container ships, Archer - who was running on his claws alongside the rebels - let out something akin to a whine, stopping in his tracks. He turned his beak up to the skies, squawking with his feathery wings spread out. Something had disturbed him. Otaes tried to calm him down, searching through the skies. Though hard to see, there was in fact something there. A long scaly body, spiked wings, and snake-like tail gave it away despite the storm concealing it from the ground, “Dragon! It's scouting us out! The Imperials are onto us!”

  They had been spotted, the dragon circled over head though it didn’t make a move to start dashing down.

  “Keep moving!” Sparrow yelled out as the team ran through the storm. They approached the containers; Eli could smell the sea breeze smacking him in the face. He watched the salty ocean spray wash against the concrete piers, angry storms crashing over the unnatural construction, "My squad is setting up a defensive point inside the Custom's House and we'll try to draw their fire! It's easier to defend! Misfit, take up an ambush spot in the containers! Got it?"

  Normally Eli would object to Sparrow using himself and Misfit as bait to keep Sparrow safe, but for what it was worth the plan was sound. If the Imperials suspected that the Counting House housed a makeshift ULA command post, they would concentrate their firepower on that building, luring them deeper into the shipping containers and the defensive kill zones that the Rebels were already working on establishing with their limited firepower. Before Misfit could come to an agreement, Sparrow and his gaggle of forces were already off towards the counting house.

  Badger sighed, "And of course, he's using us as bait again. We're Phantoms on Earth, and Phantoms on Narva. Some things never change," She shook her head, "What's the plan Soldier Boy?"

  "We'll play along with Sparrow," Eli said, "It isn't a bad idea actually. We'll find a spot to hide, maybe we'll follow some of the other rebels?"

  "I could give you a lift with Archer," Otaes offered, gesturing to the Griffon. A somewhat wounded Temetet rode on his back, though there was still enough space to fit one or two more on the Griffon.

  "That won't be necessary," Said a familiar voice, and it was none other than Sosa. The wolfkin looked exhausted and he was panting underneath his breath, "I can help you get up to a safe spot."

  "Shouldn't you be with Sparrow?" Dutch asked, "I thought you were one of his guys?"

  "Not anymore," Sosa fiercely shook his head, his fangs were exposed in a scowl, "That son of a imp got Vega killed. I know it. Vega was a close friend of mine... I used to think that I was fighting for a good cause with the ULA against the Avonians but now... I'm not so sure. I'd much rather help you Earth-humans. You have good heads on your shoulders. I admire your courage.."

  Dutch smiled, "How's about that... someone admires us for once. How many times does a Phantom get to say that?"

  "Don't get carried away, I just don't want to see you all die here. We're friends now, and Helena makes for a bad grave, no?"

  "Amen to that," Matteo nodded.

  In the distance, a six foot tall wave furiously crashed against the concrete walls of the pier, sending fleeting ocean water to wash over the surface sending its salty sea spray into Eli’s face. His mind drifted to the final images he had of his old home. The storm crashing against the walls, shaking them furiously. The winds rushing by like a freight train rolling through. The hurricane which had sent Eli’s life careening off the course of “normalcy” and into that of Phantomhood was here again. He could feel the thunder, see the lightning, and he knew that danger lurked just behind them.

  He could almost feel Glassface’s piercing stare in his mind once again.

  Despite his best attempts to remain calm, he couldn’t. There was just too much fear in the air. He could feel his heart race, and his movements grow frantic. He must’ve looked rabid judging by the way Omar was looking at him. But like a stabilizing force, Omar reached out his hand, placing it onto Eli’s shoulder. Like a mooring post holding a ship in place over the angry seas. Eli looked into his young wide eyes, and where he expected to find more fear… he found a smile.

  “We’ll get through this,” Omar’s voice said. Clear. No longer was there any shakiness lurking within the voice of the scared boy Eli once knew. The one who had been paralyzed with fear at during the attack of the Behemoths on the Nexus. That boy was no longer there. When Eli looked into Omar’s eyes he could still tell that the kid was scared, terrified even. How could one not be? But Omar remained firm regardless.

  Courage. He found it in Omar’s smile, “Together,” Omar said, “We can do anything we want.”

  Slowly Eli nodded, though his heart raced still, “Together,” He affirmed.

  “You’re the one who told me that, you know? And if you’re scared, I’m scared. So, don’t be. Be you. Be strong,” Omar told him.

  Now it was Eli’s turn to smile. Omar was a good kid. One lost in the chaos of… everything. Overwhelming or not, he stood firm. If Eli had been his age, taken from his home by a storm, kidnapped from his family by soldiers, and sold off into the Coalition’s Penal Unit – only to then be shipped to another world as cannon fodder, Eli wouldn’t have made it. How Omar was still not only standing in the face of madness, but standing strong, was a miracle. The boy was stronger than he’d given him credit for. If Omar could pull through for Eli, then Eli would have to pull through for him. For all of Misfit. This was his vow to them.

  He couldn’t bring them the moon, but he’d do everything in his power to keep them alive and unafraid.

  “Then let’s give the Imperials a fight they won't forget!” Eli told him, he locked eyes with Sosa, "After you!"

  As the group approached the shipping containers, the dragon circling overhead banked hard, and slipped past through the storm clouds towards the fallen ULA base. There was no doubt that they had already been spotted, and within moments the Imperials would be alerted to their whereabouts. But in the shipping containers was safety. Though large, and at first quite daunting, the rebels helped Misfit scale their corrugated steel surface, slick with rain in some parts and ruined by orange rust in others. Barrels, large crates, and sacks full of goods were stocked high nearby, a perfect hiding spot for some disparate squads of rebels as they took shelter behind their shadowy frames. The lights to the Helen Ports had been cut, and where tall thin towers stood – presumably fixtures to illuminate the massive facility – lay only darkness silhouetted by the brightening stormy skies of the morning.

  Sosa led them to a wall of containers with an open one situated a few meters high sandwiched in a good, hidden, spot. With Misfit confirming their location, Otaes climbed on top of Archer's back and took his reigns, "I'd love to stay on the ground and help, but I think we'll be of more use in the skies to fend off those dragons. I'll try and keep them off of your backs."

  "What about Temetet?" Asked Eli.

  "Don't worry about me! I'm alright!" Temetet answered from behind Otaes. Archer took a few steps back, and at Otaes' command, he spread his wings and pushed himself into the air, leaving Misfit to watch as they flew up to the cranes towering above them...

  Sosa was the first one to scale the containers, his massive wolfkin frame easily dwarfing the others. His sharp claws dug into the steel containers, and with surprising nimbleness he made his way up into the empty container. Powerful muscles launched the wolf up and over, where he made a 180, and dropped a rope down for the others down below to latch onto. He held the thick rope in his maw as a wolf would, clenching hard with his sharp canines as his claws kept him firmly grounded in position.

  Most surprisingly of all, Badger was the first one up. She grabbed the rope, beckoned on encouragingly by Sosa with a wave, “Really? Badger?” Dutch queried, “I thought you were afraid of-“

  “Sosa’s looking out for us,” Badger interrupted him with a brief glare, “If he’s willing to stick by us, I’m willing to at least pretend like I’m not afraid of him,” In her next movement, she grabbed hold of the rope and began to rappel up the sleek surface of the container. Her two arms keeping her tethered while her boots connected with the sides. Even making use of the various notches and kinks in the metal, Eli could tell that simply rappelling up like that was physically demanding, perhaps lightwork for Sosa’s physique, but for humans not so much. But Badger was smaller, nimble, and with Sosa doing the best he could to pull the rope up while remaining tethered himself, she ascended without too much issue.

  Eventually she reached the dark opening of the container. In the pattering of the storm, Eli could hardly make out the furry figure of Sosa standing in the opening of it, and Eli was standing right underneath them. It’d be difficult for the Imperials to scout them out as they advanced, making Sparrow’s choice of position for defense nearly impeccable. Sosa reached out a claw which Badger took, and quickly she was pulled inside.

  Sosa let gave a wave of his claws to signal the next one up the rope, and without haste, Dutch began his attempt to climb the rope. Dutch was larger than Badger, not by much but it was enough to make a difference. His movements were a lot clumsier than Badger's, and Sosa struggled more to help him up – even with Badger doing her part to keep a hold on the rope. Regardless, Dutch made it up without concern, though with a couple of near-slips.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  For a relief, Omar was up into the container next. Sosa didn’t even need to pull Omar up, for the boy was small, quick, and nimble. Eli remembered the first night when they had ventured out beyond the reach of the Nexus, into the thick jungle wilderness surrounding them. He remembered how Omar led the way forward for Eli, Dutch, and Matteo. How he was the first one to scale the rocks and hills. This proved light work for him. And within moments the boy was up in the safety that Sosa, Dutch and Badger provided. That only left Matteo, Rafael, and Eli himself on the ground.

  Otaes and Temetet had taken Archer and flew up to one of the cranes where they’d have a vantage point over the port. Sparrow and Bell took positions on the ground near the Port’s administrative building, central in the midst of the field of containers and crates. Rebels scattered around the three as the remaining hold outs found their hiding positions.

  Eli and Matteo both looked at each other with a knowing glance. Rafael had to be the next one up. The injured man could walk on his own, but he would not be able to climb without significant assistance. Now that Sosa was joined by Badger, Omar and Dutch, they’d be able to lift him up and do most of the work themselves. But that would still take quite a while. Dutch was a stocky and quite muscular person, about the same size as Dutch all things considered. Whatever athletic effort he might’ve been able to put into helping himself up would be gone, leaving those at the top to do virtually all of the work, while Matteo and Eli could only watch and act as a safety net in case he fell. It might take a while for Rafael to get pulled up, and by then Matteo and Eli would both be in harms way.

  Matteo again glanced at Eli as he held the rope in his hands, “It has to be done,” Matteo told him. Eli nodded, bringing the rope in Rafael’s shaking hands. The natural machismo of Rafael and the revolutionary spirit seemed to have vanished from his body. He was shivering in the rain despite it being muggy and quite hot. Occasionally he’d let out a horrific sounded cough only to spit out bloody phlegm. While he might’ve resisted Matteo’s attempts to carry him, preferring to walk on his own two feet, the facts were clear. He was on deaths door and Rafael needed to get to a safe spot more than anyone.

  “Raf,” Eli addressed him as he held the rope out, “You grab hold onto this and just hang on for dear life. They’ll do the work pulling you up. Alright?”

  Rafael shook his head, “I could stay while you-“

  “No. Rafael. I’m serious. You first,” Eli said looking into his eyes. Eli gave him a courteous though brief smile, “What kind of revolution are you gonna lead if you’re dead?”

  “You know the answer to…” He descended into another coughing fit, it was getting worse, “To that…” hints of defeat peppered his voice. It physically hurt Eli to see him in this condition. The bold and fiery agitator of the squad, the one who pushed them forward to claim their own freedoms and destinies, the revolutionary. Reduced now to a coughing, trembling, nearly defeated shell of the man he was because of this. Eli had put them all in harms way for the sake of the people here, and Rafael nearly died because of Eli’s brash actions. Maybe if they had just boarded that helicopter…

  "Sosa said it best. Helena's a bad place to die, and I don't wanna lose you when we're so close to the finish line. I don't want to lose any of you."

  “No matter what. We did right by the people and by all Phantoms. I would die one million times before I ever say that what we did was wrong,” Rafael almost sensed the kinds of thoughts that went through Eli’s mind, “We saved them all, Eli… how can anyone say that was the wrong…” Another coughing fit interrupted his speech. Eli could hear his lungs wheezing for air, he could hear the mucus, the illness. Eli couldn’t help but wince as Matteo brushed a hand over Rafael’s shoulder to keep him steady. Rafael chuckled when his coughing fit ended, and with a defiant glimmer in his eyes, he spoke once again.

  "If I die, you have permission to cremate my body, turn my ashes into a brick, and throw me at the back of Kovic's head. How about that?"

  "You are genuinely insane," Matteo chortled.

  Sosa growled from above, “Humans! I don’t know if you plan on staying down there forever, but either you’re sending him up or I’m dropping this rope and getting somewhere safe!”

  “It’s alright, Raf,” Eli handed Rafael the rope, “Come on. You need to get up. Don’t worry about us. You’ve been through enough.”

  Tenderly, Rafael got a weak grip onto the rope’s surface shaking still. Both Eli and Matteo kept their hands on him, making sure he was standing straight for when those at the top began to pull. Sosa crouched down onto all fours, gripping the rope once again in his jaws as the rest of Misfit stood behind him, them too holding tight, “He’s good! Lift him up!” Matteo called out to them.

  The squad at the top began to pull, and immediately Rafael began to levitate. His body was launched a few feet into the air. His legs hung limp from his body, and Rafael seemed to grip onto the rope for dear life. His body went up, slamming into the rusty surface of the container before again going airborne, “Woah! Too fast! Too fast! Slow down! You’ll kill him!” Matteo said. But Matteo’s words couldn’t stop what was coming. Someone grip slipped, and Rafael nearly fell five feet down before control of the rope was regained. On its own, that was bad enough, but Rafael was holding the rope so tightly that he squeezed his eyes shut. His fingers were slipping as well. Both Matteo and Eli knew what was coming and they rushed into position.

  A moment later, and Rafael had fallen into their arms. The man was breathing hard, as if he had just run a mile as he remained nestled in the arms of Eli and Matteo. His face looked deathly pale, and Rafael looked as if he might pass out, “Not good… Not good at all,” Matteo ran a hand across Rafael’s forehead – wet with both rain and his own sweat. The old man grimaced as he retracted his touch, “Fever. He’s barely hanging on here.”

  “You don’t think Otaes could come back down and heal him again?” Eli wearily asked him.

  Matteo shook his head, “She’s unreachable right now. Besides, there’s no time. Even if she was standing right next to us, it’d take at least a few minutes for that spell of hers to finish. If her magical energy hasn’t already been drained or however that works.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Eli swallowed, shaking eyes nervously wandering up to the glowing yellow eyes of Sosa as they pierced through the darkness and the rain.

  “Send him up again,” the wolf said, “I think I lost my hold!”

  Eli nodded, again looking down at Rafael. Cradling him in his arms, “Raf? I need you to stay with me here, alright? We’re sending you up again. Try and hold the rope with your feet, okay?”

  Breathlessly, Rafael nodded. He again grabbed hold of the rope, making certain that it was wrapped well around his boots, “If this doesn’t work, we’ll just have to keep him on the ground and find a place to hide. At this rate, I’m not even sure if there’s time for us to get up.”

  “We’ll do what we have to. Either way, Rafael is going to make it through, alive. I’m not letting anybody else die. Not on my watch,” Eli said, “We already lost Cato. One is enough.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Matteo sighed, “Cato wanted what he got. Let it go, Eli. You cannot save everybody. You’re only making it harder.”

  “Not while I still have a pulse,” Eli said to him. He looked up at Sosa once Rafael was secure, “Bring him up!”

  Sosa again got back down on all fours, his tail was raised far in the air as the others crowded around him. Together they all pulled, bringing Rafael up. Slower this time, but steadily. Rafael still had a weak grip on the rope, but his feet kept him in place. He rose, higher and higher…

  The call of a Sentry interrupted their hope. Eli and Matteo both turned their attention to the world behind them. Past the metal fence, the warehouses, and in the slums of Helena, a sentry was approaching. It was close enough that Eli could see the red eyes through the storm and it would only continue to march further.

  “They’re approaching!” Shouted a rebel from another vantage point from above, “If you aren’t in position now, you’d better get into one!”

  Eli’s heart froze. He turned back up to Rafael, still only halfway there.

  There was no time for Eli and Matteo. They could only watch to ensure that Rafael got into safety while the duo were left in the dark. Hands grabbed hold of Rafael, pulling his wounded body into the container, but by then the sentry’s marching footsteps were close enough to send a subtle quake through the ground.

  Sosa’s piercing golden eyes went back to Eli, “I… I don’t know if there’s time, Freeman,” his pointed wolven ears were flat behind his head.

  “There isn’t,” Eli responded, “We’ll stay. Just keep Misfit safe, we’ll find a place to hide down here!”

  Sosa nodded shakily, “Good luck. Oh… and if you see Sparrow, you can tell him I said, ‘fuck you’!”

  Eli smiled as the wolf retreated back into the container. He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from Matteo, “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “You have a gun?”

  Matteo held up the rifle that Overwatch had issued Misfit when they were assigned this mission, a day ago.

  “Good, because I don’t have mine.

  Matteo gave him an exasperated look, “Take my sidearm. And don’t lose this one, will you?” Matteo said, tossing him the pistol tucked in his holster. The cyan blue insignia had been imprinted on the alloy of the slide of the gun designating its use for the penal unit. For some reason, Eli held a stare at the cyan delta and orange circle as if it were a foreign symbol he’d never seen – strange considering that the symbol was everywhere on his body. On both his shoulders, on his back, on the monitor attached to his wrist… Yet, this was the first time he’d seen it in a different light. The symbol meant something different now, no longer just being a reminder of his servitude to the Coalition… but something greater than that.

  Eli followed Matteo as they ran to cover amongst the cargo containers and crates dotting the port. Rain pooled across the concrete, sending splashes of water around his ankles as he ran through the raindrops. Thunder rustled the skies, but soon even the thunder was drowned out by the sound of the advancing sentries looming near. Quickly Matteo pointed out a large, open, container on the ground level. A few rebels had already taken up shelter within, lurking inside of the darkness. With a little more effort, both were safely within despite the tight squeeze. From the opening of the container, Eli could make out the metal hull of the first sentry advancing towards the cargo port. Stomping its way forward through the storm. The second lurked just behind it. Red eyes scanned the ground for targets as its massive legs tore through the chain link fence surrounding the port like a knife cutting through paper. By its feet, Imperial vehicles and soldiers kept in pace. Alpha units. Eli could spot several Alpha Suppressors and Lieutenants, in addition to Shock Troopers and plenty of normal Imperial Soldiers. He felt a fear work its way into his heart when he realized that there was no sign of the River Militia alongside them…

  One… two… three…

  The marching footsteps of the sentries set the cadence like drums. The rhythmic march of two giants, shaking the ground harder as they drew closer. Eli closed his eyes, stifling a nervous whimper as his mind raced to find some sort of assurance that they were all safe. Perhaps the sentries would search the port, find nothing, and leave? Unlikely, stupidly hopeful. Maybe Sparrow had access to more anti-sentry rockets than he let on. Maybe, maybe not. Besides, what would Sparrow have to gain from lying about that. Eli had seen the rebels for himself, and of the dozens that accompanied them, only five carried a launcher. Five rockets, maybe, for two sentries. Talk about the odds not being in their favor.

  And then there was everything else. Sure, the Sentries were the most dangerous of the bunch because of their size and raw power, Eli knew that winning against the Alpha Units and Shock Troopers would be no easy feat. Hell, even winning against standard Avonian infantry would be an uphill fight. The rebels were low on ammunition, half of them were wounded and the other half were exhausted. The Avonians would curb stomp them if the ULA tried to fight them head-on. They would all have to hope that Sparrow’s ambush tactics would work, because if they didn’t – there was nowhere else to run.

  Matteo raised his rifle, his frame covered by dark shadows as he watched the imperial army advance closer. His fingers were fidgeting around the barrel of the gun as he did so. He could hear the rebels behind them chattering in hushed whispers rocked by shaky voices. The rebels knew that this was a unwinnable battle just as much as Eli did. But the battle being unwinnable didn’t mean victory couldn’t still occur.

  Defeating the Imperial forces was likely impossible for the ULA. But that’s not what they needed to do. They just needed to survive long enough for the Coalition to save them. How long that would take would be the crucial factor. As always, Eli’s monitor was useless with the signal jam still operational. For now, he just had to hope that Overwatch didn’t just shrug their shoulders and resolve to let Misfit and the ULA die out here.

  One… Two… Three…

  Like listening to the marching footsteps of the Behemoths in the jungle on the first day. Titanic war machines, undefeatable. If just one of those Behemoths had shown up, even all by itself, the battle would’ve been over entirely. The ULA and Misfit would all be dead. There was nothing any of them would be able to do to even slow one of those down. Eli’s brain conjured up images of them advancing on the Nexus, their guns vaporizing fleeing Phantoms – hunting them down like animals. The sentries were all too similar. Much smaller, sure, but just as deadly. If not, even more so. One could hide from the eyes of the Behemoth, but the smaller size of a Sentry and its mobility meant that trying to flee from one of those would be neigh impossible.

  But there was still hope. Unlike a behemoth, the rebels could defeat a sentry. So long as one of the long legged war machines came down, it should buy the rebels a little extra time, much needed. For it was time that had become the most critical resource in this entire fight.

  One… Two… Three…

  The first sentry was in the midst of the Port now. Its four legged frame towered over them. The rebels around Matteo and Eli fell silent as they all watched the beast draw closer. Like a giant spider that crawled through the shadows, the red eyes surveyed the ground illuminating all that was not safely hidden. Red light washed away the darkness, even the storm seemed to abide by the rule of Imperial war machines.

  Eli narrowed his eyes. Any second now and the first gunshots would surely be exchanged. The Imperial Soldiers had taken to the alleyways and narrow paths through the containers. Eli hadn’t noticed it before, but a few howlers lurked alongside the soldiers. Their large size was intimidating, dark fur blended in perfectly with the stormy shadows. They were mobile, and surprisingly fast, put forward ahead of the soldiers as the howlers scouted the containers out. It put all of the containers on the ground floor in direct danger when Eli saw one duck behind a alley not too far away from their own. He heard one of the rebels load their gun with a magazine. Within seconds all hell would break loose…

  One… Two… Three…

  And then it did.

  >>>[Verifying...]

  >>>[Searching For Newest Updates...]

  >>>[Searching...]

  >>>[Standby...]

  ==[ERROR: No New Updates. For Now. Check Back Next Time.]==