Orc Tyrant

Miviman was stuck in the chair, he looked out through the round eyepiece, carefully inspecting it.

The control of the tank is very simple. There are only two joysticks and two pedals. He has trained them for dozens of hours, so he doesn't worry about any malfunctions, but that's the problem.

Now, the Hammer is slowly rubbing the edge of this dead city. The turbid fog has reached a new concentration. He can only communicate with the rest of the team through a microphone. He is thinking about how they will be. Think these are enough?

Controlling this machine is like riding a steel beast. Sometimes it slowly responds to the control of the control device, and sometimes it suddenly outputs surging power.

They had been driving for several hours, and Miviman didn't know where they were driving. With the help of the car locator, he knew that he had been driving east.

The main road developed by the lycanthropes in the jungle stretches along the stream. The Hammer and other dirty cars travel along this road. If the map is correct, they will never cost more than the edge of the fortress. Half an hour.

But they have been walking for at least five hours and still haven't found any signs of enemies.

Occasionally he would see something he thought he knew, buildings or sculptures would suddenly emerge from the thick fog, and then be covered by the thick fog again after a moment.

Every time he tried to determine their position, but every time he failed. The whole team was lost. He convinced himself several times that the **** locator was broken, and they were actually driving north or going in circles.

He tried not to think too much, not to think about why these things happened, not to think about the crowded phantoms he saw in the mist, not to think about the baby machines in his abandoned city.

Suddenly, Miviman blinked, and the outside world peeled away from the fog. He actually saw the bare shore on the left side of the road.

The sea is like a scar, slowly ups and downs, and a large amount of exudate accumulates on the tide line.

The sky started to rain, and greasy black raindrops splashed on the armored glass. He immediately stopped the car and turned to the nerve boy.

The guy was looking at him from behind, his eyes covered in a gray mist, his knees pressed against his chest.

"Tell the other cars, we drove to the beach, **** it!"

The neuroboy froze, then he stretched out his limbs and turned on the equipment that filled the compartment.

He took a coil-wound iron rod from his backpack, inserted it into the skull on the table, and began to speak.

"Razor, razor."

A rush of static electricity surged with the nerve boy's voice, then reduced to a hissing noise and gradually quieted down.

"The hammer calls the razor."

The static electricity surged again and turned into a deep moan again, and the nerve boy began to turn the iron rod, repeating the same sentence:

"The hammer calls the razor."

Miviman could hear the nerve boy breathing harder and harder at the end of each transmission.

"Galani?"

Miviman called the other party, but he did not answer. Instead, he continued to turn the iron rod inserted in the pale skull. Now he was sending the message in a tone that was almost pleading.

Miviman turned his head to look at the observation slit ahead, and a thick yellow mist appeared again, pressing tightly on the glass.

"They are not here."

The nerve boy's voice was low, as if he was talking to himself.

Miviman turned his head to look at him, the neuroboy's head was resting on the huge Skog skull, as if listening to the sound inside.

"They are not here."

After he raised his head, Miviman noticed calm blood pouring from the opponent's eye socket.

"Only me."

After speaking, the nervous boy fell headlong, and Miviman suddenly felt that the world was attacking him like a cold hand.

The Hammer continued to move forward in the mud. The biological sludge covered its tracks and the long barrel of the main gun. The mud and debris under the tracks creaked, and the exhaust pipe coughed the exhaust gas into the heavy air.

The farts are giving first aid to the neuroboy, and every member of the car team feels bad. The mysterious intuition of these lunatics is the most acute. What is it that destroys him like this?

What power can do this?

"Where did they go?"

Miviman murmured, looking at his screen in confusion.

All the beacons disappeared from the screen five minutes ago, and now even the microphone communication is disturbed by static electricity.

"I wondered if we really had a business."

The main gunner began to complain.

"I knew that if you didn't sit in an iron case, there would be no such trouble in a big convertible car."

"be quiet!"

Miviman gave a low growl and continued to stare at the screen. There were a variety of colors and graphics displayed on it. There were nine in total before—representing the location of each unit in the team. This positioning system is actually not very tasty To be accurate, it is a very fashionable new thing.

Now only the Hammer's own beacon is still flashing, sometimes clear and sometimes distorted.

Others have no signal. The scanning system has been disturbed since they set off, and now it's getting worse.

He didn't bother to look at the observation hole, it didn't make much sense. If they couldn't see other units on the screen, they would still be invisible through the fog outside, even if they climbed out.

"Rage call for hammer."

Suddenly, a voice came into his ears, and Miviman almost jumped up from the chair.

He blinked, and he couldn't believe it, the entire screen was a little distorted.

"Damn it, hammer, talk back!"

"Received, please speak."

Miviman answered happily, but his attention never left the monitor, his neck felt a little itchy, and a lot of green snowflakes appeared on the screen.

"Can you see anything?"

The captain of the Fury asked a very strange question. His tank is slightly different from the Hammer. The main weapon is a two-piece gun and the secondary weapon is a sudden gun. The special transformation of the city type, in short, is that things are dismantled very quickly.

Miviman didn't reply, blood was pounding in his skull, and screams sounded in his brain as he breathed.

Just like before, like those scenes where he used to fight in blood and never return after leaving alive, before he became a mechanic.

The screen was full of color patches caused by static electricity, and then dimmed out.

He felt as if he was waiting for something.

He calmed down, softly and quickly, as if turning off a light.

It started again.

He thought to himself, everything is the same as before.

He felt his body and mind got rid of panic and entered a frenetic rhythm, just like the feeling of returning home.

"I can't see anything."

He paused, licked his lips, and patted the main gunner's right arm. This was a silent command.

The main gun bolt was opened and a shell was loaded.

The commander of the Fury heard the dull sound when the bolt was locked, and the feeling of fighting returned to him.

"Something is not right, furious, something is out there, get your weapon ready."

There will be more tomorrow! Everyone has the ticket or something, just drop it over!