Boarding pier.
"Charge! Charge! Don't let these Zeon bastards take over this place, charge forward!"
A young militiaman, holding a flag and shouting from a high position, vigorously waved the flag, urging the people behind him to charge forward.
Bang!
A sniper rifle bullet pierced through his forehead, brain matter splattering with blood, and his body fell from the height.
"Mom! Mom!!!"
Crying children were swept up in the crowd.
"I don't want to die!"
Collapsed men and women wept in the crowd, while militiamen holding weapons listened to the cries around them, wailing as they pushed forward.
Twin Dragon Plan.
The right flank battlefield was to attract the armored forces, while the left flank battlefield was to capture the boarding pier and block ground troops.
However, at this point in the plan, the most crucial problem was that there was no one left; no one was willing to die.
The volunteer militiamen who were willing to stand up and face death had already shed their blood on the right flank battlefield.
The left flank battlefield was not so much a gathering of militiamen as it was a forced assembly of refugees.
The Federal Level Five Agent, Hughes Wen, that ruthless and iron-faced agent, was in charge of the operation here.
When he discovered that the assembled militiamen were far from enough to assault the boarding pier, he decisively ordered the residents of the two nearest anti-aircraft facilities to be driven out.
He used the lives of these people to block the advance of the Zeon landing soldiers; most of these civilians had no weapons.
Although weapons had been widely distributed to the public before, Iphix Island was not a weapon production factory; it was impossible to issue a firearm to everyone.
Only men could be prioritized and organized into a militia.
So, the boarding pier was now being used to exhaust the bullets of the Zeon landing force with human lives.
This cold-blooded scene even stunned the Zeon.
In the surging crowd, there were militiamen holding firearms and civilians with bare hands.
"What are you waiting for?! Shoot!"
The Zeon landing company commander roared fiercely.
The Zeon soldiers beside him quickly set up their machine guns, aimed at the charging crowd, flipped off the safety, and pulled the trigger.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat...
Intense bullets flew, sweeping down the charging crowd like a scythe cutting wheat.
"Help!!!"
Screams, wails, and angry shouts of killing mingled into a chaotic mess.
The entire Zeon landing force was blocked at the boarding pier, unable to break through.
In the temporary command post of the landing force, the Zeon Major in charge of this landing operation was shouting into the communicator: "Where did your armored unit go?!"
"Return! Immediately return and suppress them! Hurry!"
"Report!"
A Zeon soldier burst in, saluted, and said, "The enemy, mixed with civilians, has rushed to the main road's..."
"What civilians! Only enemies! Eliminate! Eliminate them all!"
The Major turned and roared, "We came here to eliminate those enemies. Since they've delivered themselves, don't hesitate!"
"Kill them all!"
"But... but there are children and women among them."
The Zeon soldier's face showed some hesitation; as a soldier, he had to obey orders, but facing reality, he couldn't bear it.
The Major slammed his hands on the table, roaring like a tiger ready to devour its prey: "I said, those are enemies, regardless of gender, age, or youth. Convey my order: no mercy whatsoever, eliminate them all!"
"But..."
"Soldier, answer me, what is your duty!"
"Report! A soldier's duty is to obey orders! Complete the mission, Long Live the Principality of Zeon!!!"
Looking at the second-class soldier saluting, the Major snorted coldly, deciding not to pursue his timid hesitation and soft-heartedness, only instructing: "Convey the order!"
"Yes!"
The soldier turned and left. Outside, the sounds of gunfire, artillery, and the distant, hellish screams continued.
The soldier pulled his helmet down, the shadow covering his eyes. He was a soldier of the Principality of Zeon.
He was a warrior fighting for the Principality of Zeon.
His duty was to eliminate the enemies of the Principality of Zeon!
The armored unit, currently withdrawing from the right flank battlefield, with tanks and armored vehicles leaving the building ruins.
On the turret of a heavy tank, a Zeon driver pushed open the top hatch and looked into the distance with binoculars.
"Seriously, how much resistance can there still be? They want us to go back and support them, why don't they come and support us?"
The driver grumbled under his breath.
The battle had been going on for over an hour, and the ground offensive hadn't fully started yet; the landing force was still held up.
This was truly a joke.
"If this gets out, other units will laugh at us."
Just as the driver finished complaining, he suddenly felt the sky darken. He lowered his binoculars and looked up.
"What's wrong?"
Then, his eyes nearly popped out: it was a White Zaku, wielding a Heat Hawk, descending from the sky.
"No..."
Swoosh— The White Zaku, descending from the sky, brought its Heat Hawk down with great force onto the tank.
The heavy tank was split into two halves by the Heat Hawk as if it were a cake, and the next second, a roaring explosion erupted.
"What's going on?"
On the command armored vehicle to the right of the tank, the commander pushed open the top hatch and stared at the White Zaku.
His eyes were filled with bewildered confusion.
Wasn't Zaku on their side?
The White Zaku turned its head, its red mono-eye glowing, and the commander immediately broke into a sweat as the Heat Hawk came swinging towards him.
With a loud boom, the command armored vehicle was directly blown apart.
These old ground warfare weapons couldn't withstand the Zaku's attack. The White Zaku, gripping its Heat Hawk, stood up.
Inside the cockpit, Suli gripped the control stick.
"Zeon!!!!"
Amidst Suli's roar, the White Zaku began to run. Ahead, a steel tank turned around.
Just as it raised its twin machine gun barrels, the Heat Hawk directly struck the steel tank's head cockpit.
The White Zaku stopped, chopping down with force.
Crash!
The Heat Hawk, radiating intense heat from the steel tank's head cockpit, cut straight down like a hot knife through butter, even blowing apart the chest cockpit.
"What's going on, what's wrong with this Zaku?!"
The drivers in other armored units were also confused. Why was this Zaku attacking them, and why was it white?
Just as they were in a panic, this White Zaku quickly turned, its Heat Hawk whistling through the air.
Any tank it struck exploded into wreckage with a loud boom.
A 120mm caliber tank destroyer nearby quickly raised its barrel, attempting to aim at the White Zaku in front of it.
"Quick, quick, load the shell!"
The driver on the tank destroyer shouted loudly.
Suddenly, he felt the sky darken. Looking up, he saw the White Zaku's red mono-eye on its head staring at him.
The driver's face twisted into a smile uglier than a cry.
"No... don't..."
The White Zaku directly reached out, grabbed the tank destroyer's cannon barrel, and lifted it with one hand.
The driver on the tank destroyer was also thrown out.
With a whoosh, the tank destroyer's heavy body was slammed heavily onto the ground, and the shells inside detonated.
The explosive blast threw the Zeon driver, who had fallen to the ground, into the ruins, leaving him in too much pain to even crawl.
"Damn it... Zaku, why would a Zaku attack us?"
The Zeon driver rolled over, gasping, trying to get up. As he turned, he noticed another person nearby.
Judging by the clothes, it was a militiaman from Iphix Island.
He was sitting against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes.
The Zeon driver's breathing immediately became rapid. He reached for the pistol at his waist, then pointed it at the militiaman.
It was then that he realized, this militiaman was already dead, his body cold, but seeing that ferocious expression and eyes filled with hatred, the Zeon driver still couldn't believe that such a person was dead.
However, it was good that he was dead.
The Zeon driver got up from the ground. The sound of explosions outside resumed, the sound of armored units being destroyed.
It was too easy for the Zaku to deal with these armored units.
As he got up, he leaned against the broken wall and looked behind him.
Two militiamen holding rifles were looking his way from a short distance away, bathed in sunlight.
Their eyes were just like those of the corpse he had just seen: hatred, anger, and murderous intent.
"Hoo hoo... Long Live the Principality of Zeon!!!!"
The Zeon driver took a deep breath and shouted his last slogan. The two surviving militiamen raised their rifles.
Gunshots rang out, one after another, outside, covering the sound of the rifle.
The White Zaku was like a god of war on the battlefield, slaying gods and Buddhas alike, a revenger who had crawled out of the fiery hell.
The Heat Hawk was raised high, then slammed down, and the exploding tank burst into flames.
Behind the White Zaku, the burning wreckage of explosions was already everywhere. With the last steel tank, the White Zaku's left shoulder armor's impact spike directly pierced through its frontal chest armor, and its cockpit was then split open by the Heat Hawk.
With a loud boom, the White Zaku soared into the sky amidst the explosion's flames.
The Zeon landing armored force was completely annihilated!
At the same time...
Boarding pier.
"Let me go, I don't want to die!!!"
A crying young man was held back by another armed militiaman.
That militiaman, also young, shouted, "We have nowhere left to run. If we can't stop them, we'll all die. If we stop them, we still have a chance!"
"If you want to die, go die yourself, don't drag me into it!"
"I don't want to die!"
The crying young man suddenly pushed the young militiaman beside him, then ran frantically backward, tripping over a rock.
He fell awkwardly to the ground.
The young militiaman watched the young man's retreating figure, gritting his teeth as he ran towards the surging crowd. Gunshots echoed everywhere.
Fierce roars and machine gun fire blocking the road made this young militiaman tremble, but if they didn't go forward, where else could they go?
If the people in front blocked the Zeon for one minute with their lives, the people behind could live for one more minute. I'll use my life to let him live.
The young militiaman rushed all the way to the front line. With just one glance, he froze in place.
The wide street was filled with scattered corpses.
The pungent smell of blood permeated the air.
Thick blood flowed on the ground like water.
This was hell...
"Kid, are you looking for death? Hold your rifle, find a place to hide, and absolutely do not let them break through here!"
A bearded militiaman dragged the young militiaman over, gripping the young militiaman's collar with his blood-stained hand, telling him to go hide nearby.
With a loud boom, the building next to them was hit by a shell, and crumbling stones rained down like drops.
"They're attacking again!!!"
The bearded man shouted backward. Here, anyone who picked up a gun was a soldier, regardless of gender or age. The sounds of artillery fire came one after another.
The veterans who had survived ten minutes here knew that after the artillery barrage, it would be the Zeon's offensive.
Their artillery fire would continuously suppress forward.
In less than an hour, the boarding pier would be completely cleared by the Zeon, and the militiamen who had rushed into the boarding pier... were almost all dead.
"Is there still hope for us?"
The young militiaman, clutching his rifle, looked at the bearded man beside him with desperate eyes, asking in a sorrowful voice.
"God, do not forsake us."
The bearded militiaman did not answer, but instead tightened his grip on his rifle, uttering a sincere prayer like a priest.
A shell landed on the street not far away.
The shock of the explosion made the ground tremble.
"They're here!"
The bearded militiaman said in a deep voice, raising his rifle.
None of them knew how much longer they would live; their lives here were measured in minutes...
The Zeon's attack began!
Zeon soldiers, armed with weapons, advanced in seven-person assault teams, alternating their charges.
The bearded militiaman held his rifle, aiming its barrel.
"What is that?"
The young militiaman, looking at the figure descending from the sky, excitedly pointed towards it, "It's a god!"
"What?" The bearded militiaman frowned and looked.
It was a white figure flying through the air with a strong gust of wind, changing direction in mid-air, and landing directly into the Zeon's position.