Chapter 640

Standard Tera calendar, 941.m41

Amegiddoton, the main continent, Inverness nest

Marek Kiel had recorded his 58th birthday a month ago. He was a real old man at his age in Inverness nest.

The gravel in his body from the desert plain made him move and hurt. He didn't recover much until these days.

Many years on this plain can be a heavy blow to a person. They have to deal with scratches and subsequent infections, and then they have to worry about the sand dust in their nose to blacken their lungs.

But in any case, people who have been working outdoors for a long time will fail in their lungs due to failure and infection, and they will be busy coughing up bloody sputum for the rest of their life.

Painful eyes are also a constant suffering - always crying, and sometimes dry.

Even his hearing was not very sensitive. Only the emperor knew what the wind and sand had done to his ear canal for decades.

When his blood surged up and his heart beat faster, everything in the world became blurred and silent, just like under the water.

But of all, his heart was the most damaged. Every time he walked a little longer, it was always noisy and noisy to him.

In a word, he has the right to complain, but he rarely does.

Marek Gil was not as like as two peas who would like to relive the pain. Though he tried to talk with people around the desert to tell the life of the desert plain, it didn't work well, which is exactly the same as Marek's father tried to tell him the same thing, and then the pain and pain that he brought in this life.

He was caught up in these replaying memories when the alarm in the city howled disharmoniously.

"Fake --"

He said loudly that the storm started early this year. The last time he heard from the radio was that there were at least a few weeks or even a month left.

Not long ago, there was a rumor among the neighbors that the front line was defeated. Marek thought it was nonsense - those shit green things, like cockroaches in the cracks of his furniture, would never have a second effect except to disgust people.

They will only be gently crushed to death like pests, and Marek is confident enough.

The old man pulled himself up from the lying sofa and tasted the air through his teeth when his knees trembled. Both knees regained consciousness under acupuncture.

There is no doubt that getting older is a complaint.

A shadow passed through his window, and he raised his head when his fist hit the board that served as the door

"The throne of the emperor."

His knees protested to him again, but he had to stand up and walk away anyway.

Guard officer Barack Hughes is on the other side of the door and is armed. The worn guard laser rifle is no longer intact after thousands of years, but as the watchman of South 21st Street, he has the right to carry weapons when patrolling.

"Are you going to catch some sand rabbits?"

Marek almost laughed and made a gesture to the gun.

"It's still early to shoot the robbers, boy."

"Those alarms."

Barak gasped, apparently running through the muddy alleys of embedded buildings.

"The storm came early."

The old man looked out the door and saw that the horizon was blocked by the broken tooth like skyline of the nest. People were driven out of their houses and stirred up in the streets from all directions.

Barak shook his head.

"Come on, you old man with ears, go to the underground shelter."

"No."

The old man's stubbornness is like most people in this city, and this place is not far from the military camp. There are many chimeras in it. These armor resist the worst thing in the sandstorm.

"Listen to me, this is not a sandstorm. The nests are being attacked."

After a while, Marek didn't know whether to laugh or lie back in bed.

"... what's the matter?"

"This is no joke. I heard that the defense chief has gone crazy, or... I don't know anything else. Please! Look at the sky, you old stone!"

Marek once saw the panic in Barak's eyes in the faces of the personnel serving outside the high wall. The fear of animal instinct lost in the plain temporarily turned his body in no direction at the beginning of the sandstorm, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to paint on this man's face, making it ugly and sick.

He looked far to the west at the command spire, where a faint orange light lit up the evening sky behind the city

"Who?"

The old man whispered:

"Who will attack us? Even say who will know we are here? Who will care about this?"

No one answered him.

Barak had begun to run and joined the crowd. The old man saw him stretch out his hand wrapped in cloth to help a boy stand firm and squeeze him into the bustling line.

Marek Kiel waited for a moment as he returned to his house carrying his sore knee and arthritic hand. When he appeared again, he took his rifle - which worked well, thank God.

He used it as a volunteer catcher and used it to shoot nest robbers after he retired from detecting storms.

Then he followed the edge of the crowd. When they pushed eastward, he walked to the West.

If the nests are attacked, there is no point in scurrying and hiding. Old Marek always knows how to perform his duties.

He lowered his head and simply checked his gun.

Just then, he seemed to hear the roar.

Everyone in the crowd screamed, curled up and held his head. The giant beast roared above. When they looked up at it, their ears were deafened.

Only Marek remained the same, his bloodshot eyes staring in awe.

Things darker than the gray sky are roaring in the sky. It's not a monster at all. It's an aircraft, painted red and rough in shape. It forms a dense formation and glides past the nest capital spire.

The crowd now began to scream again, and the thin parents hugged their thinner children and covered their eyes.

These fighters, like pieces of garbage, tilted over their heads, and the flames of the thrusters surged out, just like the wind blowing its armor.

With their own momentum, they hovered in the air against the howling wind. When turning, the nose glanced at the crowd below, and the propeller burst out a thunder again, shaking the surrounding buildings.

In the blink of an eye, the formation of fighters crossed the sky. There is no doubt that it is not a human aircraft.

Marek was stunned for a moment and suddenly ran with his feet. The pain of his joints had long been ignored.

"Let me go,"

He said, passing through the separated crowd, the fugitives in the opposite direction were slightly encouraged by his behavior.

Marek ran three blocks before giving up the fight on his knees.

When he couldn't hold on any longer, he held a wall, cursed the tingling in his joints, and his heart didn't feel much better. Rapid pacing made the blood pass through his chest.

Marek hammered himself in the chest as if anger could soothe the flames spreading inside his body.

With more orange light against the clouds, there are more and more places on fire in the city.

He gasped and forced his knees to obey him - they trembled in response.

Old Marek stumbled. He successfully crossed two streets before stopping to calm his breath this time.

"I'm too old for such folly."

He coughed and leaned against a wall, ignoring some kind of howling and roaring.

Marek didn't hear this. Although the sound was only a few meters away from him, he still tried to breathe.

The blood pressure rose and the violent drumming of his heart made him deaf.

He saw the street clear when people left, and then looked back at him as if he were shouting——