Illusions flicker before my eyes, forming a strange world of countless black and white lines.
Gradually, the black-and-white lines multiply, sharpening the image, yet it remains slightly blurred.
The dense black lines roar as they gather into flames.
Before me, black lines weave into flames, stretching forward, reaching Pine Bone Peak.
Tens of thousands of enemy soldiers charge like a pride of lions.
They have airplanes, tanks, and heavy artillery.
They possess the world's strongest equipment and glorious battle records.
On the small hill before them, a team of more than a hundred guards the key path, tasked with holding off the enemy, ensuring our forces complete the encirclement.
The terrain is perilous, making it impossible for ten thousand troops to charge simultaneously; the enemy can only send several hundred at a time to attack our forces.
Yet the enemy's heavy firepower, including planes, tanks, and artillery, bombards us nonstop.
