Jason lay motionless in a shell crater, melding with the mud around him. In this artillery base far from the frontline, he was the sole living presence, as not even a mouse roamed Milok Star—there were no such creatures on the planet. The once lush hill was now littered with debris, remnants of the Federal artillery battalion that had been reduced to ashes in recent bombardments. Various wreckage, both metallic and organic, scattered the ground around Jason.

Growing weary, Jason fought to keep his eyelids from drooping involuntarily. A gentle slap to his face helped maintain alertness, forcing his gaze back to the battlefield.

This marked Sergeant Jason's twenty-first battle with the Federal Aerospace Marines. From the Galileo to the Newton system, Federal forces had retreated, relinquishing twenty-two resource planets and five human immigrant worlds. Milok Star, one of these human settlements in the Newton system, had lost its counterpart, Milok II, to Imperial forces two months prior. Should Milok Star fall, the Newton system's thirty-plus resource planets would be ceded to the enemy.

But such thoughts didn't occupy Jason's mind. His sole concern was survival amidst war—a philosophy of self-preservation he staunchly adhered to. Despite participating in twenty-one battles, Jason remained a sergeant in the 1st Squad, Logistics Unit, 3rd Armored Battalion of the 5th Armored Division. Most comrades who had survived eighteen battles had been promoted, but of those who had fought across three planets from Galileo to Newton, he alone remained. The 5th Armored Division had been obliterated, with ninety-five percent casualties and the remainder stranded on Milok II. Jason had barely escaped, fortuitously boarding a retreating warship and joining the remnants of the 9th Armored Division, now defending Milok Star.

Moving cautiously behind a fallen tree, Jason lay down and relieved himself—a skill he had honed to avoid splashing himself. The prolonged battles had taught him not to let fear induce accidents. Shivering, he spat out his displeasure. Originally ordered to retreat to the Darwin system due to a forty percent manpower reduction, their plans were now foiled by the Imperial landing on Milok Star, compelling all nearby units to gather for a desperate defense, delaying the enemy to facilitate reinforcements.

Despite his chosen hiding spot being far from the frontlines, Jason didn't feel safe. From his vantage, battles raged in the distance. At the nine, twelve, and three o'clock positions, nearly a hundred Imperial Anti-Articulated Single Soldier Mech Armors (Saint Armor 22) maneuvered agilely, resembling ostriches with missile-firing wings. They emitted shrill whistles as laser-guided missiles struck targets below. Compressed in the six o'clock position were over a dozen Galactic Federation's bulky five-person combat armors (Honor 15), their impressive defenses overshadowed by the Imperial's numerical superiority and coordinated attacks.

This contested area, dominated by a few deployed mechs, was New Rome's northwest defense zone on Milok Star—the planet's largest industrialized city. Guarded by a reinforced medium armor squad and an artillery company, their task was to protect the rear logistics corridor. With no trenches or fortifications to stall infantry, it was merely an advanced position; the true Federation frontline lay kilometers into the jungle. Beyond this lay the steel Su Peng Manjiang Bridge, spanning Milok Star's largest river, with the Federation's hastily assembled second defensive line and New Rome's last bastion of defense. A breach here would force the Federation into urban warfare—a fate Jason hoped to avoid.

In this battlefield, Jason was the lone infantryman without a mech suit—a mechanic repairman by trade. Days earlier, he had been sent alone to this forward position to maintain mechs. For the past two days of battle, he had been isolated, lacking trenches, fortifications, or infantry comrades to share the hardship. Thinking of this, Jason, ever the unlucky one, felt disheartened: "Damn, life can't go on like this!" Suddenly, he received the order to retreat through his earpiece.

Thirty-seven kilometers away, the central defense line had been breached, with Imperial mech troops pouring through, including a squad of heavy and medium armored mechs flanking the rear. Unless they escaped before these Imperial armored mechs closed in, they would all meet their maker together. In hilly terrain, combat mechs could achieve speeds of 150 kilometers per hour, doubling on roads. Though dense jungles and small rivers could slow the enemy, they could still reach the battlefield within twenty minutes.

Relieved to finally receive the order to withdraw, Jason nearly jumped for joy. However, the thought of an Imperial squad intercepting them on the retreat route, including heavy armored mechs, soured his mood. Confirming the order on his combat recorder and ensuring he hadn't left anything behind, Jason dashed out like a cheetah, moving with astonishing speed. Leaping over fallen trees and shell craters, he reached the edge of the hill. Moving like a startled lizard, he darted into the dense jungle and disappeared.

Meanwhile, the Federation mech squad also received the retreat order, beginning to retract their formation. Perhaps the Imperial forces received the same intelligence, as the battle intensified. Endless smoke filled the sky, intense explosions sending dirt and dust high into the air. The Federation's Honor 15 mechs alternated covering each other's retreat, while an Imperial squad began to outflank them, aiming to encircle the remaining twelve Federation mechs. If the Imperial forces seized the hill where Jason had hidden, it would impede the retreat path—a potential disaster.

Soon, two Honor 15 mechs, protected by their companions, rushed toward the hill, aiming to secure it before the arrival of thirty Imperial armored mechs (Holy Armor 22).