{No Man's Land}
The battlefield was divided.
A thousand interception points—each numbered.
The lower the number, the closer to death.
In the midst of war, mechanical sentinels roamed the battlefield.
Angels. Shepherds. Dogs. Cubs. Sheep. All constructs.
But the Angels—they were the true terrors.
They hovered above like silent gods, wings spread wide, bodies gleaming.
A massive railgun was mounted onto their forms, a weapon so powerful, it could shatter entire sectors.
Some fired rapidly. Others charged slow, devastating shots.
Their attacks moved at Mach speeds, illuminating the battlefield with a blinding flash—opposite to an EMP.
Not destruction, but revelation.
A warning.
A final moment to see the face of death before it struck.
War was never fair.
But it was always fought.
And in response—
The UEF opened its coffers.
