For the surviving locals of Northridge, today was undoubtedly the worst day of their lives, as swarms of Militants flooded into the region like madmen.
One of the locals crouched behind a massive boulder, his eyes locked on the approaching Militants. He gripped his crude weapon tightly—a tool originally meant for hunting and self-defense, now expected to face off against heavily armed Militants.
"We have to find that bastard! Orders from the top are absolute!" shouted the lead Militant. Confusion swirled in the local's mind; he was nothing more than an ordinary mountain dweller, so why were these people acting as if they would tear the earth apart just to find him?
Chapter 165