All resources will become military resources in times of war, and the high-strength graphite ore rich in the Ink Flower Planet was originally the most urgently needed resource for the war, so when the war began, the southwest mining area naturally became the southwest theater of war, becoming a hot land for the Federation and the empire to fight for, and then gradually turned into a wasteland under the trauma of gunpowder smoke and ammunition.
Located in the middle of the Southwestern Theater of Operations, the city of Sare was the largest workers' settlement in the Empire's graphite mining area, and thousands of years of mining and cultural accumulation have brought a pleasant atmosphere to the city, with old buildings neatly lined up on both sides of the streets, and large plane trees peacefully stretching their broad leaves, bringing shade and happiness to those who walk in it.
Today, the city is in ruins, the tenacious plane trees have been neatly cut down by the army on which side, and dumped in the streets as a barrier, and the old buildings are painted black, with broken front teeth, and are crumbling.
After three years of fierce fighting, the sound of gunfire seemed to echo in the city for three years, without a moment's pause, and the seemingly silent alley could be heard at any time with a loud explosion, and only a few snipers were hidden in the bell tower, looking for the enemy in the gray ruined city, ready to pull the trigger at any time.
There are too many dangers hidden in the ruins, every minute a soldier in military uniform falls and then can't get up again, and occasionally a fighter is lucky enough to stand up strong, and who knows that in a few days he will actually fall again Only a handful of the original residents of Ferge City had been evacuated before the war, and many more had to hide in their homes in helpless panic, waiting for a day when a rocket would blow the wedding photos and themselves into pieces, or that Union soldiers would rudely kick the door open.
Three years seemed to be longer than life, and the civilians of the city were lucky enough to survive, and they hid in the cellars from panic to numbness, from anger and sorrow to numbness, from passionate excitement to numbness, numbly surviving, numbly waiting for death.
However, in recent months, even numbness has become a luxury, and the city of Ferge has turned from a hot land to a wasteland and now to a scorched earth, and the arrival of death has become more rash and casual.
In the strategy drawn up by Du Shaoqing before leaving, the southwest theater was identified as an important attack target to cover the battle of the strait, and the four federal integrated mechanics, ignoring the layers of barriers laid by the imperial side here, launched a continuous offensive with a desperate attitude, dense missiles tore through the gray sky, and hundreds of near-altitude fighters roared and dived away or fell with their tails in tow.
In this terrible environment of war, it is not easy to survive like a wild dog.
Shchedkabdanovich, an ordinary old clockmaker in Sage, rubbed his legs, which were getting worse and worse, looked at the broken vat in the corner, the wrinkles on his face became deeper than the pain, his dry and gray lips twitched slightly, and he counted how many things were left in the cellar.
All that was left in the stock was two bags of compressed biscuits, the same trophies that the old clockmaker had found on a Union soldier on the street last month when he risked his life and crawled out of the cellar in the middle of the night.
The unreleased lamp oil was almost gone, and the lamp hanging in the middle of the cellar seemed to be about to cry.
What is even more desperate is that the miniature circulating water filtration system in the corner that his son bought at a high price before the war finally stopped working after three years of perseverance.
"Azra, don't fix it, come here grandpa, I have something I want to say to you."
The old clockmaker looked at his granddaughter who was busy in vain at the water platform with a loving gaze, and said with emotion: "After your father dies, who will still fiddle with such a high-class thing?"
Azra was sixteen years old, with beautiful dark chestnut curls, and her eyes were a little sunken because of malnutrition, but she looked more and more beautiful, and she looked back at the old clockmaker and said, "Grandpa, what should we do?"
"Old Tom's cellar hasn't heard a knock in three months."
The old clockmaker sighed, scratched his thinning hair, and said, "I guess they are no longer there, and in the evening, I will touch through the waterway to see if there is any left in his water tank." ” The girl Azra frowned and protested softly: "Grandpa, that's too dangerous, your legs are inconvenient, and if you want to go, I'll go." ” "How can you let a little girl take away the old man's job."
The old clockmaker laughed, took his shotgun from the black cabinet behind him, and stood up with great difficulty.
"Grandpa, I'm sixteen."
The girl Azra pouted unhappily.
The old watchmaker was slightly stunned, his brows furrowed deeply, and he said with irrepressible sadness: "Yes, my beautiful Azra, you have been with me, an old man, in this place where nothing comes to light for three whole years. ” To survive in this ruined city, it is only necessary to be strong and strong in addition to luck, so the old clockmaker did not allow himself to indulge in the harmful emotion of grief for too long, he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then carefully checked the shotgun, confirmed that it was in excellent maintenance, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Azra, I've told you many times that every time you leave the cellar it's a battle."
The old man looked at his granddaughter lovingly, gently stroked her dark chestnut curls that were somewhat knotted, and said, "There are people in this city who have surrendered to the enemy, there are people who are fighting, there are people who are waiting, I am old but sometimes I can still fight those invaders, but you are a girl, you should wait." ” The young girl Azra crouched down in front of the old clockmaker's lap and said in an affirmative tone, "I can't do anything but wait If I have a gun, I can kill a few Federation people." ” "When you live to the age of your grandfather and me, you will understand that everything in this world is a small matter, including war, and happy people only need to do one thing at all."
"What's the matter" Azra opened her wide, curious eyes, and her pupils were as beautiful as jewels.
The old watchmaker said in a tone of truth: "Live, as long as you live." ” At this moment, in the corner of the cellar, there were suddenly a few dull sounds, and the old clockmaker's expression suddenly became nervous.
The muffled sound continued, and the old clockmaker listened for a while with a frown, confirmed that it was a gunshot, and asked in a low voice, "Is the door closed?"
"Nope."
Azra replied.
The old clockmaker did not bother to reprimand the girl, and motioned for her to lock the iron door at the entrance to the cellar, although the entrance was camouflaged, but there was a possibility that it would be discovered by the soldiers on the ground.
Over the course of three years, the grandfather and grandson had heard gunshots on the ground countless times, and had encountered such a situation, so the young girl Azra was not nervous, and she jumped towards the door like a fawn with the smudge-covered skirt of her skirt.
Footsteps rang out the door.
The old clockmaker opened his mouth slightly, a look of despair appeared on his face, and subconsciously lowered his head to push open the magazine, and then touched the cold bullet beside him.
The maiden, Azra, covered her mouth in terror to keep herself from screaming and ran towards the door, but before she could reach out, the heavy iron door was kicked open.
The iron door slammed into the girl's delicate body, knocking her to the ground two meters away, and she fainted.
Looking at the two Union soldiers who rushed through the door, the old clockmaker howled in anger and despair, trying to pick up his gun and fight for his life to defend his last home.
However, the watchmaker was really old, and after three years of torment, the hands that had been able to repair the finest movements had become trembling and unstable, and he had not been able to press the bullet into the chamber for half a day, and his keen eye, which had been the proudest of all, had long since become cloudy, and he could only see the figure of the enemy vaguely.
Without hesitation, the Union servicemen who stormed the cellar pulled the trigger at the old man, and the bullet hit him in the chest and abdomen, leaving three terrible bullet holes under the ribs, and blood was gushing outward.
The old clockmaker's body fell from his chair, and without immediately stopping his breath, he looked at the Federation with a wheezing breath, and pleaded with the last of his strength, in the most humble and desperate tone: "Please spare my granddaughter. ” Storming into the cellar was a federal captain and his orderly, in the previous tragic battle, the captain's unit was directly crushed into blood by an imperial mecha battalion, he saw the opportunity to quickly get out of the war zone, broke into the house behind the street, did not expect to be lucky to find a cellar.
The military uniform on his body was tattered, and the captain of the Federation looked extremely embarrassed, and his mood was also extremely irritable at this time, looking at the old man of the empire who looked like a thin dog underground, and roared: "What did he say" "I don't know."
The orderly replied honestly.
The captain spat on the ground and did not hesitate to pull the trigger again.
The bullet pierced through the shriveled body for the second time, without bringing out much blood, and directly brought death.
In the city of Feger, the Empire's Inkflower Planet, an ordinary old clockmaker named Shedka Budanovich ended his life in this gloomy cellar.
The maiden Azra woke up, she looked at the old man lying in a pool of blood with a pale face, her eyes like jewels suddenly lost all their brilliance, as ignorant as a stone, she fell to the ground on her knees, crawled to the old man's side, stretched out her weak, trembling thin arms, and gently embraced her.
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The Federal Captain frowned at her, reached out and grabbed the girl's curly hair, pulled her up roughly, and saw the pale, sad face that was still fresh enough.
The girl stared at his face, the stones in her eyes began to burn, she tilted her head stubbornly, and then prepared to shout, believing that there must be the Empire's own troops on the ground.
The captain went to cover her lips, Azra bit him hard, the captain snorted, looked at the bleeding palm, and knocked the girl to the ground with his backhand, like a wounded wild dog.
After a moment of silence, the captain's expression gradually became fierce and strange, he stared at the girl who was half-lying at his feet and weeping, reached out and tore off the thin skirt on the girl's body, covered her face with a bloody hand, pressed it, kicked off his pants and began to gasp rapidly.
It's like a dog.
To be continued: