The sky above the frontline was a chaotic swirl of darkness and distant explosions, the faint glow of planetary defenses flickering in the distance.
Athena adjusted the strap of her tactical vest, her pulse steady despite the imminent danger surrounding them.
The wind carried the scent of scorched earth, metal, and something more putrid, the unmistakable stench of zerg carcasses left to rot under the cold moons of the Sinalta border.
She stood alongside Mors on the elevated ridge of their assigned sector, surveying the barren wasteland below.
The battlefield stretched endlessly, filled with jagged craters, rusted-out mechs, and the remains of former strongholds that had long since fallen.
In the distance, zerg activity stirred again. The horde was restless.
"This is worse than what I remember," Athena muttered, lowering her binoculars.
The cameras floating nearby continued to capture every moment, broadcasting their survival in real-time for millions of viewers.
