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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Platoons began moving again while officers started issuing last-minute orders and distributing final ammunition reserves across the staging yard.
The rest of the day passed beneath tension so thick it almost felt physical.
Not panic.
Not chaos.
Something colder.
The kind of pressure that settled into people's bones when everyone understood tomorrow might decide whether they lived long enough to see another season.
The FOB never truly slept that night.
Even when soldiers tried.
Floodlights continued glowing through drifting Fog while sentries rotated between barricades and observation posts overlooking the dark forests surrounding the industrial ruins. Generators hummed steadily beneath reinforced covers. Mechanics worked beneath tarp shelters repairing final vehicle issues by lantern light. Medics reorganized surgical trays and blood packs inside the field station for probably the sixth time.
Nobody believed they were fully prepared.
War never allowed that feeling.
But by midnight, there was nothing left to improve.
Only waiting.
And waiting always hurt worse.
Rain returned briefly during the early hours before dawn.
A cold miserable drizzle that tapped softly against metal roofing and pooled through muddy trench lines surrounding the FOB perimeter. Soldiers wrapped tighter inside jackets and thermal blankets while rifle barrels glistened beneath water droplets and floodlight reflections.
Near the western machine-gun nest, two infantrymen shared a cigarette beneath a half-collapsed loading platform while watching the Fog drift through the trees beyond the perimeter.
The younger one spoke quietly.
"You think they're awake over there?"
The older soldier exhaled smoke slowly into the rain.
"The Children?"
"Yeah."
A pause.
"Probably praying."
The younger man looked out toward the darkness.
"You ever wonder if they're scared too?"
The older soldier thought about that longer than expected.
Then finally:
"Everybody's scared before battle."
Another pause.
"The dangerous ones are the people who stop caring."
Far away somewhere beyond the Fog, faint chanting carried briefly across the wind.
Almost impossible to hear.
But enough.
The Children of Atom.
Still awake.
Still waiting too.
Inside the command structure, Sico remained standing over the operations map while radio operators monitored every active frequency across the island. Lantern light flickered softly against the reinforced walls while static crackled through speakers lined along the communications table.
Mercer entered carrying updated scout reports sometime around three in the morning.
"No major movement."
Sico looked up.
"Nothing?"
"Couple patrol fires near the eastern cliffs. That's it."
Ward sat nearby cleaning his sidearm beneath dim lighting while exhaustion hollowed shadows beneath his eyes.
"They know we're here."
"Yeah," Mercer muttered. "But maybe they still think we're building defenses."
Ward inserted the pistol magazine sharply.
"They're about to find out otherwise."
Nobody disagreed.
Outside, the Sentinels sat motionless beneath camouflage netting and rainwater like massive sleeping predators waiting for release. Their crews rested nearby in shifts inside armored transports or beneath tarp shelters surrounded by ammunition crates and spare track components.
One gunner sat against a wheel assembly cleaning carbon residue from his weapon system while another crewman adjusted the collar of his soaked jacket.
"You sleep at all?"
"Little."
"Dream anything?"
The gunner snorted quietly.
"Yeah."
"What?"
"That I was somewhere dry."
Both men laughed softly at that.
Tiny exhausted laughter.
Then silence again.
Because dawn was coming.
And everybody knew what dawn meant now.
By early morning the rain faded once more, leaving only drifting Fog and cold wind rolling through the ridgelines surrounding the FOB.
The camp slowly came alive again.
Not loudly.
Almost quietly, actually.
Like soldiers instinctively understood the island itself was listening.
Field kitchens distributed final hot meals while medics moved through staging sectors handing out stimulants, radiation suppressants, and fresh bandages. Officers checked weapons one final time. Squad leaders reviewed formations beneath floodlights beginning to dim against the weak gray morning sky.
Nobody wasted energy talking much anymore.
There wasn't anything left worth saying.
One young recruit sat near the infantry transport line staring at a tin cup of coffee in both hands.
Not drinking it.
Just holding it.
His squad leader eventually crouched beside him.
"You alright?"
The recruit nodded too quickly.
"Yeah."
"You look like you're about to throw up."
"Maybe a little."
The older soldier glanced toward the Fog-covered perimeter.
"Good."
The recruit blinked.
"What?"
"You should be nervous."
The older man rested his rifle against his shoulder.
"Means your brain still works."
That didn't completely help.
But it helped enough.
Across the FOB, artillery crews finalized shell preparations near the western ridge while spotters recalculated range data beneath heavy tarps and portable lamps.
Every shell was checked twice.
Every coordinate reviewed again.
No mistakes allowed today.
Not with nuclear warheads sitting beneath the Nucleus.
One artillery loader carefully slid another massive shell into position while muttering quietly:
"Strangest fire mission I've ever seen."
The lieutenant beside him nodded.
"Yeah."
"Bombard the outskirts but don't hit too hard."
"Pretty much."
The loader shook his head slowly.
"Hell of a sentence."
By sunrise the entire FOB had entered full combat posture.
Engines rumbled alive.
Convoy lights cut through drifting Fog.
Humvees rolled toward deployment lanes while infantry platoons assembled near the departure sectors beneath pale dawn light and cold ocean wind.
Three hundred soldiers again.
But different now.
Yesterday they were preparing.
Today they were going to war.
Sico moved through the staging sectors one last time before the assault began.
No speeches this morning.
No grand words.
Just final checks.
He passed medics loading stretchers into evacuation trucks.
Passed rifle squads tightening straps and securing ammunition.
Passed mechanics standing beside Sentinels like stable hands beside warhorses.
Everywhere he looked he saw the same thing in people's faces.
Fear.
Determination.
Acceptance.
Sometimes all at once.
Near the northern trench line, a young woman quietly handed a folded note to one of the radio operators.
"If I don't make it back—"
"You'll tell them yourself."
She smiled faintly.
"Still."
The operator accepted the note without opening it.
Neither of them spoke after that.
What could they really say?
At approximately 0700 hours, the command radio inside the FOB crackled sharply across all active channels.
"Scout teams reporting Nucleus perimeter patrols unchanged."
Mercer looked toward Sico immediately inside the command structure.
"Still no alert movement."
Sico nodded once.
"Good."
That meant the Children of Atom still hadn't fully realized the assault was moments away.
Maybe they suspected.
Maybe they feared something.
But they didn't know death was already lining up artillery coordinates against them through the Fog.
Ward stepped toward the operations table while adjusting the gloves on his combat armor.
"All assault columns ready."
Sico looked over the final deployment map one last time.
Western corridor assault groups.
Northern breach teams.
Sentinel advance routes.
Evacuation lines.
Once this started, there would be no controlling the chaos completely.
Only surviving it.
Outside, the Sentinels rolled slowly into their forward attack positions near the FOB perimeter gates.
The ground trembled beneath their tracks.
Massive armored hulls emerged from camouflage netting while machine-gun turrets rotated methodically through the Fog.
Soldiers nearby instinctively stepped aside as the tanks passed.
Even veterans respected that kind of weight.
One infantryman watched the lead Sentinel crawl toward the departure lane before muttering quietly:
"Feels like the island's moving."
His squadmate checked his rifle chamber.
"Good."
The artillery crews waited.
Everyone waited.
The Fog drifted heavily across the ridgelines beyond the FOB.
Somewhere out there the Nucleus still stood silent beneath gray skies and radioactive shoreline.
Not for much longer.
Inside the command structure, radio static filled the air while Sico finally stepped toward the communications table.
No hesitation now.
No more waiting.
A radio operator handed him the field transmitter.
"All artillery batteries standing by."
The room went completely still.
Mercer stopped moving.
Ward folded his arms tighter.
Even the exhausted operators nearby seemed to hold their breath.
Sico lifted the radio slowly.
His voice came calm across the channel.
"Fire mission authorization confirmed."
Static crackled softly.
Then the artillery commander answered:
"Copy authorization."
Sico stared at the operations map while finishing the order.
"Commence barrage against Nucleus outer perimeter sectors."
A pause.
Then:
"Fire."
For half a second nothing happened.
The island itself almost seemed to freeze.
Then the western ridgelines exploded.
The sound hit the FOB like the wrath of God.
Massive artillery cannons thundered simultaneously from concealed positions behind the industrial ruins while shockwaves rolled through the camp hard enough to rattle metal walls and shake mud from trench supports.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The noise became overwhelming instantly.
Deep.
Violent.
Endless.
Soldiers across the FOB instinctively looked westward as artillery shells screamed overhead through the Fog toward the distant Nucleus.
The sky itself seemed to tear apart.
Another barrage followed seconds later.
Then another.
The artillery crews worked with terrifying speed now.
Shells loaded.
Coordinates adjusted.
Cannons recoiling violently beneath smoke and fire.
The opening assault had begun.
Far beyond the ridgelines, distant explosions suddenly bloomed through the Fog around the Nucleus outskirts.
Orange flashes lit the gray morning briefly.
Then came more.
And more.
The bombardment rolled continuously across the island like thunder trapped inside steel.
Inside the FOB perimeter, soldiers listened silently while the artillery barrage hammered the outer defenses of the Children of Atom.
Nobody spoke much.
Because hearing it made everything real in a completely different way.
One medic standing beside an evacuation truck whispered quietly:
"Jesus Christ."
Nearby, a rifleman tightened his grip around his weapon so hard his knuckles whitened beneath wet gloves.
Another soldier quietly crossed himself again while artillery thunder shook the ground beneath everyone's boots.
The Sentinels waited near the gates like chained beasts listening to distant destruction.
Eight minutes.
That was all the bombardment would last.
Eight minutes to tear open the outer perimeter.
Eight minutes before infantry had to walk into whatever survived it.
Inside the command structure, radio traffic exploded into life.
"Impact confirmed!"
"Outer trench lines hit!"
"Secondary explosions near western barricades!"
"Enemy movement detected north sector!"
Scout teams hidden near the Nucleus perimeter relayed targeting confirmations through bursts of static while artillery crews continued firing relentlessly into the outer defensive zones.
Mercer checked his watch.
"Three minutes."
Too fast.
The bombardment already felt like it should last forever.
But time moved differently during war.
Too quickly and too slowly at once.
Sico remained standing over the radio table listening to the explosions rolling endlessly through the Fog.
His face barely changed.
But everyone nearby could feel the tension sitting underneath the calm.
Because he understood what came next better than anyone else in the room.
The artillery would stop.
And then people would start dying up close.
Ward moved toward the exit doors leading outside the command structure.
"Infantry's ready."
Sico nodded once.
Outside, engines roared louder as the assault columns prepared for movement.
Humvees rolled into attack lanes.
Rifle squads assembled behind Sentinel armor.
Machine guns locked forward.
Medics secured equipment straps.
Officers shouted final positioning orders over the constant thunder of artillery fire echoing across the island.
Then suddenly—
Silence.
Not complete silence.
The artillery simply stopped.
After minutes of nonstop bombardment, the absence of explosions felt unnatural.
Wrong.
Smoke drifted through the western Fog beyond the ridgelines while distant fires glowed faintly somewhere near the Nucleus outskirts.
Mercer checked the timer.
"Eight minutes."
Finished.
This was the moment.
The final edge before collision.
Sico grabbed the field radio again and stepped outside into the cold morning air where three hundred soldiers waited behind armored vehicles and drifting exhaust smoke.
Every face turned toward him.
The Fog moved slowly through the convoy lines.
Sentinel engines growled.
Somewhere far away, faint echoes of burning structures crackled beyond the hills.
Sico lifted the radio calmly.
His voice carried across every convoy frequency.
"All assault units."
The soldiers straightened instinctively.
"The barrage is complete."
A pause.
Cold wind swept through the FOB gates toward the western roads leading into war.
Then Sico gave the order.
"Advance."
Everything moved at once.
The lead Sentinel surged forward first, its massive tracks crushing mud and broken pavement beneath overwhelming mechanical force while black exhaust poured into the Fog behind it.
Then the second tank followed.
Then the Humvees.
Then three hundred soldiers marched toward the Nucleus through smoke.
The convoy disappeared into the Fog like something too large and violent to belong to the world anymore.
Sentinels in front.
Humvees behind them.
Three hundred soldiers moving through ruined island roads beneath cold gray skies and the lingering smell of artillery smoke drifting across the western sectors.
Nobody talked much after the advance began.
Engines dominated everything.
The grinding roar of tank tracks crushing wet pavement.
The deep mechanical growl of armored transports forcing their way through cratered roads.
The constant metallic vibration of mounted machine guns rattling against reinforced frames while gunners scanned the tree lines endlessly through scopes and drifting Fog.
War had stopped being theory now.
It was movement.
Noise.
Weight.
Inside the lead Humvee, Sico sat beside the radio console watching the shattered road ahead while scout reports continued crackling through static-filled channels.
"Advance corridor remains clear."
"Thermal contacts negative north ridge."
"Smoke visibility increasing near target perimeter."
The artillery barrage had changed the island already.
Even from kilometers away the aftermath lingered in the air.
Burned earth.
Pulverized concrete.
Smoke rolling through the forests where shells had ripped apart the outer sectors surrounding the Nucleus.
Mercer's voice crackled through convoy comms from the second vehicle farther behind.
"Maintain spacing between armor groups."
"Copy."
Ward answered immediately from the infantry column.
"Left ridge movement possible. Could be survivors fleeing perimeter."
Nobody relaxed hearing that.
Because survivors could mean anything now.
Panicked civilians.
Children scouts.
Ambush teams repositioning through the Fog.
Every shadow carried possibilities.
The convoy continued westward.
Slow.
Heavy.
Purposeful.
Around them the island looked wounded.
Several artillery impacts had struck old roadside fortifications during the barrage. Burned watch posts leaned sideways beside shattered trees while smoking crater lines carved through the muddy terrain. Pieces of destroyed barricades littered the roads alongside abandoned radiation warning signs half-buried beneath dirt and ash.
One Humvee gunner stared toward a still-burning trench sector as the convoy passed.
"Damn."
No one answered him.
There wasn't really anything to say.
Farther ahead, the lead Sentinel rolled over a collapsed checkpoint barrier while its turret rotated steadily toward the surrounding cliffs.
The Children of Atom symbols painted across the barricade had been blackened almost beyond recognition by artillery fire.
Almost.
But not completely.
The yellow Atom markings still glowed faintly beneath soot and rainwater.
Watching.
Like the island itself refused to let them disappear quietly.
As the convoy moved deeper toward the Nucleus approach sectors, the atmosphere inside the vehicles shifted again.
Tighter now.
Soldiers checked rifles repeatedly despite already checking them ten times before departure.
Medics reorganized trauma kits in silence.
Machine gunners adjusted ammunition belts with nervous hands.
Nobody needed speeches anymore.
The closer they came, the more instinct took over.
One infantry transport bounced violently through a cratered section of road causing several soldiers inside to slam against each other beneath hanging gear and ammo packs.
"Easy!"
The driver shouted back immediately.
"Road's gone!"
One exhausted rifleman muttered while steadying himself against the vehicle wall:
"Whole damn island's gone."
Not entirely wrong.
Outside, smoke thickened gradually through the Fog.
The artillery had done its work.
The western horizon carried an ugly orange glow now where fires still burned across the outskirts surrounding the Nucleus perimeter.
Several scout teams hidden ahead of the main assault columns continued relaying updates through radio channels.
"Outer trench sectors destroyed."
"Enemy movement disorganized."
"Multiple fires still spreading south perimeter."
Then another transmission arrived.
Tighter voice this time.
"Visual confirmation on Children survivors attempting emergency response near impact zones."
Inside the lead Humvee, Mercer spoke quietly through the comms.
"They're trying to regroup."
Sico kept his eyes on the road ahead.
"Expected."
Artillery shattered defenses.
It didn't end wars.
Not unless every single defender died in the barrage.
And nobody here believed that happened.
The Children of Atom had survived too many horrors already.
A bombardment alone would never break them completely.
Ahead, the terrain began changing.
Less forest.
More rock.
The cliffs surrounding the Nucleus sectors rose gradually through the Fog while shattered industrial remnants appeared along the roadside with old storage facilities, collapsed dock structures, rusted shipping containers overturned by decades of storms and warfare.
The island felt radioactive here even before the Geiger counters started clicking harder.
Tick.
Ticktick.
Tick.
Several soldiers instinctively glanced toward the readings clipped onto their armor straps.
Not dangerous yet.
But climbing.
The closer they moved toward the submarine base beneath the Nucleus, the stronger the radiation pockets became.
One medic quietly adjusted the radiation suppressant injectors hanging from her vest.
"God I hate this place."
The soldier beside her checked the magazine on his rifle again.
"Everybody hates this place."
Then the first bodies appeared.
Children of Atom fighters.
Or what remained of them.
The convoy passed shattered defensive sectors where artillery shells had torn through trench systems and barricades along the outer perimeter roads. Burned robes and broken rifles lay scattered through mud and smoking debris fields while several crater zones still burned weakly beneath drifting rain and ash.
Nobody inside the convoy celebrated seeing it.
The destruction looked too ugly for triumph.
One young recruit stared silently through the Humvee window at a ruined checkpoint where three dead cultists still lay partially buried beneath collapsed sandbags.
He swallowed hard.
The older soldier beside him noticed.
"First assault?"
The recruit nodded slowly.
The veteran looked back toward the ruined checkpoint.
"Don't stare too long."
"Why?"
"Because eventually your brain remembers they were people."
The recruit looked away after that.
Ahead, the Sentinels slowed slightly as the convoy approached the final outer sectors surrounding the Nucleus outskirts.
Smoke drifted heavily across the roads now.
The artillery barrage had transformed the area into devastation.
Burned defensive towers collapsed sideways across trenches still glowing faintly with embers. Trees had been ripped apart by shell impacts, leaving blackened splinters scattered across crater fields filled with muddy water and ash. Fires crawled across shattered barricades and destroyed supply positions while smoke rolled endlessly through the Fog beneath gray skies.
The place looked like the end of the world.
And in some ways it probably was for the people living here.
The Geiger counters clicked louder.
Tickticktick.
Ticktick.
One scout vehicle ahead transmitted through the radio suddenly.
"Main outskirts visible."
Sico looked forward immediately through the windshield.
The Fog shifted slowly.
Then the Nucleus outskirts finally emerged.
Or what remained of them.
The artillery barrage had devastated the outer settlement sectors surrounding the submarine base approaches. Several wooden structures burned openly beside shattered radiation shrines and collapsed watch towers. Makeshift barricades had been obliterated completely while crater impacts scarred nearly every section of ground visible through the smoke.
But movement remained everywhere.
Children of Atom survivors.
Dozens of them.
Some wounded.
Some dragging debris away from collapsed structures.
Others desperately trying to extinguish spreading fires using buckets and salvaged pumps near the ruined perimeter buildings.
Several figures carried injured survivors through the smoke while others shouted frantic orders beneath ringing alarm bells echoing across the shattered outskirts.
For one strange moment the battlefield almost didn't look like a battlefield yet.
It looked like disaster relief.
Human beings trying desperately to survive catastrophe.
One older cultist knelt beside a wounded girl near a burning barricade while wrapping cloth around her bleeding arm. Nearby, two others struggled to move debris pinning someone beneath collapsed timber and concrete.
Smoke drifted around all of them.
Ash falling softly through the Fog.
The convoy slowed.
Not stopping completely.
But enough.
Inside several vehicles, soldiers stared outward quietly at the destruction unfolding ahead.
One rifleman muttered softly:
"They weren't ready at all."
No.
They weren't.
The artillery had caught the outskirts mid-routine.
Mid-life.
People had been sleeping here.
Eating here.
Praying here.
And now half the perimeter burned around them.
Mercer's voice came low through the comms.
"They still don't fully realize we're already here."
That was true too.
The Children survivors remained focused on fires, wounded defenders, and collapsed structures.
Some looked terrified.
Others furious.
But most were simply trying to keep people alive.
War always looked different up close.
Less heroic.
More human.
One medic riding inside the rear transport whispered almost involuntarily:
"Jesus…"
The convoy kept moving forward through smoke and cratered roads.
Sentinels advancing slowly.
Machine-gun turrets rotating.
Three hundred armed soldiers approaching the devastated outskirts while the Children of Atom still struggled to process the bombardment that had just torn through their defenses.
Then one of the cultists finally noticed them.
A young man covered in soot near a destroyed barricade looked up through the smoke toward the approaching armor columns.
His face changed instantly.
Shock first.
Then horror.
He screamed something toward the others.
More heads turned immediately afterward.
One woman carrying medical supplies froze completely beside a burning trench line.
Another cultist dropped the bucket he'd been using to fight fires.
Farther back, armed defenders suddenly began shouting warnings across the perimeter ruins.
Panic spread fast after that.
Too fast.
Because now everyone understood what the artillery barrage truly was.
Not punishment.
Preparation.
The assault force had arrived.
Inside the lead Humvee, Sico watched the realization spread across the outskirts through smoke and drifting Fog.
Children fighters started grabbing rifles.
Others dragged wounded away from exposed positions.
Alarm bells rang louder somewhere deeper inside the Nucleus sectors while armed defenders emerged from damaged trenches and ruined guard posts trying desperately to reorganize.
The moment shattered.
Disaster relief turned back into war in seconds.
Ward's voice came sharply through the radio.
"They're mobilizing!"
Machine guns atop the Sentinels rotated forward immediately.
Infantry squads tightened formation behind armored advance positions.
Safety catches clicked off all across the convoy lines.
Sico stared through the windshield at the burning outskirts ahead.
At the terrified survivors.
At the armed defenders scrambling through smoke.
At the war about to erupt fully between them.
Then he grabbed the field radio.
His voice came cold.
Steady.
"All assault units…"
The convoy seemed to hold its breath.
"Engage."
The first Sentinel fired instantly.
The cannon blast ripped across the outskirts with overwhelming force, obliterating a damaged barricade where armed Children defenders had just started regrouping. The explosion hurled debris, fire, and bodies through the smoke while the sound rolled across the shattered perimeter like thunder.
Then everything exploded into violence.
Machine guns opened fire from Humvee turrets.
Rifle squads surged forward behind the armor columns.
Children of Atom defenders screamed warnings while returning fire from trenches, ruined structures, and crater lines scattered throughout the outskirts.
The war had started.
Not theoretically.
Not strategically.
Physically.
Bullets tore through smoke-filled air almost immediately.
Cracks.
Bursts.
Tracer fire cutting through drifting Fog and burning ash.
One Children defender firing from behind a collapsed truck disappeared beneath heavy machine-gun rounds from the lead Sentinel while nearby cultists dragged wounded survivors toward deeper defensive positions.
Another group attempted to organize near a burning shrine before mortar fragments from secondary explosions scattered them across the mud.
The outskirts became chaos within seconds.
Pure chaos.
Sico climbed from the lead Humvee while soldiers rushed past him toward breach sectors and ruined trench lines ahead.
"Move!"
Ward shouted from farther left while directing infantry through a partially collapsed barricade opening.
"Keep moving!"
Gunfire echoed constantly now between burning structures and shattered defensive sectors.
The Children of Atom fought back immediately despite the devastation surrounding them.
Fanatically.
Desperately.
One robed defender charged directly through smoke carrying a radiation rifle while screaming religious chants before being cut down by concentrated rifle fire near the western crater line.
Another group launched makeshift explosives from behind a ruined watch tower, forcing one Humvee to swerve violently sideways as shrapnel tore through the vehicle armor.
"Contact right!"
"Second trench line!"
"Medic!"
The battlefield dissolved into overlapping screams, gunfire, smoke, engines, and explosions almost instantly.
One rifleman collapsed beside a crater clutching his throat while the medic behind him dove forward through mud trying desperately to stop the bleeding beneath incoming fire.
Nearby, Children survivors still trapped beneath collapsed debris screamed for help while bullets tore through the smoke overhead.
War didn't separate cleanly.
Never did.
The Sentinels continued advancing relentlessly through the outskirts while their cannons blasted apart defensive positions hidden among burning structures and shattered perimeter trenches.
______________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-