The frontline collapse was beyond repair, and they went madly fleeing into Havana city, cursing their parents for not giving them two more legs, losing countless valuable military assets along the way, but none of that was more important than their lives.
When the first wave of defeated soldiers finally rushed to Havana port, they saw it already crowded with people.
The pier was packed, as far as one could see, it was all restlessly anxious heads, but the docks were empty, with not a single Floating Ship left; only the airport had a few planes queued for eager boarding.
Everyone here wore faces of panic, mostly local drug dealers and recruitment henchmen, reluctant to abandon their businesses and escape to Europe with the nightmare, or hoping to stay behind to make a fortune alongside the Celestial Soldiers.
No one could have imagined the frontline would lose so quickly, after all, these were European Celestial Soldiers, how could they lose?
