August 30th, Apocalypse Day D93, 1 day until the grand transfer of Xilan City.
A blizzard howls across the city, the temperature plummeting to minus 60 degrees. White light blankets the landscape, icicles hanging from buildings, and snow flying through the streets.
Near Central Avenue, there is a dense flow of vehicles transferring, faces of countless survivors bearing heavy expressions. City-wide public frequencies and convoy frequencies persistently broadcast regional command voices.
All the clamorous sounds converge into two words.
Transfer, defend.
These simple two words press down tens of thousands with a sense of foreboding akin to the calm before a storm, as dawn's earthquakes and attacks entirely shatter the city's previous peace.
Everyone knows that Xilan City's safety is over, what's coming is a battle as heavy as mountains and unknown death.
"Where are we being transferred to?"
"Don't know, just follow orders, asking won't help."
