Pain slams into you as you open your eyes. The radioactive desert sands blister your skin and suck away your last ounces of strength. Struggling to your feet you take inventory: wounded body, a chaingun with one last clip of ammo, one fragmentation grenade, and the iron will to look past those odds. Corpses of Blackhand's entire regiment litter the ground around you. Only a few survivors remain, and calling them survivors is a stretch. Wild bolts of lightning blast across the sky, announcing the death of Yet another of the reborn. In the tracks left by the lightning,graceful, metal wings can be seen, beating against the gray clouds. She is coming for you, the reborn. Slapping your last...
Read more at MUDConnector.Com