The evacuation order is like a stone thrown into a calm lake.
As dawn breaks the following day, Hulmatu's militia unit is enveloped in a strange atmosphere—
No longer the joy and relaxation after conquering the town, but a mix of confusion, discontent, and loss.
The camp was bustling with voices, but unlike the tense order of pre-war preparations, it was now more chaotic and resentful.
Inside what was originally a half-collapsed courtyard wall serving as a temporary ammo depot, a group of militiamen were silently, or rather moodily, packing their gear.
The clatter of firearms was louder than usual, and the sound of boots crunching over gravel seemed especially heavy.
An old soldier with a scar on his face cursed under his breath as he aggressively dismantled the tripod of a DShK heavy machine gun, his actions rough as if venting anger at someone.
"Barely warm from taking it, and now we gotta give it up? Several of my brothers died here for nothing!"
