The remote missile descended like a thunderclap, instantly swallowing over a dozen armored vehicles of the "Richmond Guard Team," and the morale of the troops plummeted instantly.
Those units not affected scattered like frightened birds, leaving only the rear guard personnel who were terrified by the blast shockwave.
Next, seven or eight "Warthogs" landed vertically, their hatches opened, and a team of black soldiers jumped out, silently taking over the battlefield, beginning to clean and search.
Major General Borg was blasted into a daze, yet he couldn't help finding it absurd – what were those yellow-skinned monkeys thinking? Why were there groups of black soldiers pointing guns at him?
Then... Borg was no longer a major general.
A hard gunstock smashed into his face, and the intense pain instantly stripped him of his consciousness.
When he woke up again, he found himself in a makeshift tent, lying on a narrow stretcher bed, his head throbbing as if it were splitting open.
