If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
______________________________
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
The Nucleus itself had become a shield and became a place that too dangerous for conventional assault, which meant the coming operation would likely become the hardest fight on the island.
The next morning came colder than the last.
Not freezing.
Far Harbor rarely froze completely this time of year.
But the kind of cold that crawled into joints and stayed there. Wet coastal wind rolled through the harbor streets before dawn while heavy Fog drifted low between buildings, swallowing entire sections of the settlement in pale gray haze.
Rain had finally stopped sometime during the night.
That almost made things worse.
Without rainfall beating against rooftops and barricades, the island felt quieter.
Too quiet.
The sea churned dark beyond the docks while distant foghorns from the anchored Bridgekeeper vessels echoed softly through the harbor like mournful warnings carried over black water.
Far Harbor stirred awake slowly beneath rotating searchlights and generator hum.
Workers emerged from bunkhouses and storage shelters wrapped in thick coats while soldiers rotated positions along the walls carrying rifles slick with condensation.
Nobody looked rested anymore.
They looked functional.
There was a difference.
Near the western barricades, mechanics worked beneath tarp shelters servicing one of the remaining Sentinel tanks stationed for settlement defense. Floodlights illuminated rising engine steam while crews checked ammunition feed systems and replaced worn track plates damaged during earlier deployments.
The tank sat motionless in the Fog like some massive iron animal resting between hunts.
A pair of local dockworkers passed nearby carrying fuel hoses over their shoulders.
One glanced toward the Sentinel.
"You think those things ever break?"
The mechanic overheard him immediately.
"Oh, they break."
He slammed a wrench against armored plating with a metallic clang.
"They just break expensively."
That earned a few tired laughs nearby.
Small ones.
The kind people gave mostly because they needed reminders they still could.
Inside the harbor walls, life continued moving around war whether anyone wanted it to or not.
Medical teams carried fresh bandage shipments toward the clinic.
Night patrols filed after-action reports inside the command hall.
Kitchen workers distributed watery coffee and reheated ration stew to soldiers heading toward morning deployment rotations.
The harbor smelled like oil, smoke, saltwater, and exhaustion.
Sico stepped out from the command building shortly after sunrise carrying a folded supply ledger beneath one arm while two guards followed several paces behind him automatically.
The command hall behind him still buzzed with activity despite the early hour.
Field radios crackled nonstop.
Recon teams updated movement reports around the Nucleus containment sectors.
Western frontline units requested additional fuel deliveries and replacement ammunition after the previous day's operations with the Sentinels.
The war never paused long enough for anyone to breathe properly anymore.
Sico moved toward the nearby supply depot through damp harbor streets lined with stacked ammunition crates and fuel drums beneath camouflage tarps.
Workers nodded briefly while passing him.
Most looked too tired for conversation.
The supply depot itself had once been an old fishing warehouse before the war transformed it into one of the settlement's most important logistical centers. Reinforced steel doors now protected the entrances while armed guards stood outside beside sandbag nests and mounted machine guns.
Inside, the depot had become organized chaos.
Crates stacked almost to the ceiling.
Rifle ammunition.
Mortar shells.
Medical supplies.
Spare radio parts.
Fuel reserves.
Replacement combat armor plating.
Everything Far Harbor needed to keep fighting.
Everything disappearing faster than it could comfortably be replaced.
Avery stood near one of the central inventory tables arguing with two exhausted quartermasters over shipment records.
"No, that's not acceptable."
She jabbed a finger toward the manifest sheet.
"If western ridge burns through another full plasma reserve tonight and nobody logged it properly, I swear I'm assigning both of you to dock unloading duty for a month."
One quartermaster looked genuinely horrified.
"That's cruel."
"Correct."
Sico approached quietly while Avery rubbed tired eyes and exhaled sharply.
"You look thrilled."
She glanced toward him.
"You know what I discovered this morning?"
"What?"
"We are somehow low on socks."
That almost made him pause.
"…Socks."
"Yes, socks."
She pointed aggressively toward the surrounding mountains of military supplies.
"We have artillery shells stacked high enough to flatten half the island but apparently everyone's feet are dying."
One nearby worker muttered:
"War's hell."
Avery glared at him.
"War is trench foot and inventory disasters."
Despite herself, she looked exhausted enough that even her irritation felt worn thin around the edges.
Sico unfolded the supply ledger while scanning the latest numbers.
Fuel reserves stable.
Medical stock acceptable for now.
Ammunition consumption still extremely high.
Food supplies holding barely within operational margins.
The settlement could sustain the current pace of war.
For now.
But not forever.
That remained the constant truth beneath everything else.
No matter how strong Far Harbor looked from the outside now, attrition still mattered. Every convoy lost. Every damaged vehicle. Every wounded soldier. Every burned supply cache.
All of it accumulated slowly.
Avery leaned against the inventory table.
"The western sectors used almost double expected rifle ammunition yesterday."
"The Sentinels forced closer engagement."
"Yeah."
She folded another paper sharply.
"Apparently people shoot more confidently when seventy tons of armor are rolling beside them."
Reasonable behavior honestly.
Before Sico could answer, one of the outer depot guards suddenly turned his head sharply toward the harbor walls.
Then came the sound.
Distant at first.
A sharp crack echoing through the Fog.
Gunfire.
Not training fire.
Not accidental discharge.
Real gunfire.
Another burst followed almost immediately afterward.
Then shouting.
Loud enough this time to cut through the depot activity outside.
Everyone froze.
Only for a second.
Then Far Harbor exploded into motion.
A siren wailed somewhere near the western sectors.
Harsh.
Urgent.
The kind that immediately turned stomachs cold.
One of the guards near the depot entrance grabbed his radio.
"Contact at the gate!"
Another voice screamed faintly through static from somewhere outside:
"CHILDREN OF ATOM ATTACKERS MOVING THROUGH THE FOG!"
Then came the unmistakable rattling roar of heavy machine gun fire from the watchtowers above the walls.
Fast.
Violent.
Continuous.
The entire depot changed instantly.
Workers dropped manifests.
Quartermasters reached for weapons.
Guards snapped rifles upward while running toward defensive positions outside.
Avery's exhaustion vanished beneath immediate adrenaline.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me."
Another burst of gunfire hammered through the harbor.
Closer now.
Sico was already moving before anyone else finished reacting.
"Western gate?"
A radio operator shouted back while adjusting frequencies frantically.
"Multiple contacts! They're trying to break through the outer barricades!"
The machine guns atop the walls roared again.
Long sustained bursts tearing into the Fog beyond the perimeter while alarm bells echoed across the settlement.
Far Harbor had been attacked before.
Raider probing assaults.
Fog creature breaches.
Small Children ambushes.
This sounded different.
Bigger.
Organized.
Outside the depot, civilians immediately began running for reinforced shelters while soldiers flooded toward combat positions from every direction.
The harbor streets transformed in seconds.
Humvee engines roared to life.
Medics sprinted toward the frontline staging areas carrying trauma bags.
Dockworkers grabbed rifles from emergency storage lockers beneath loading cranes.
Nobody needed instructions anymore.
Far Harbor had lived in war long enough to understand the sounds.
And right now those sounds meant the walls were under real pressure.
Sico emerged from the depot into chaos.
Searchlights swept wildly through the Fog near the western perimeter while tracer fire streaked through the mist above the walls.
The sound of combat rolled across the harbor in violent overlapping layers.
Machine guns.
Rifle fire.
Shouting.
Sirens.
Somewhere deeper beyond the walls came the faint thunder of explosions.
Improvised grenades maybe.
Or rocket fire.
A squad of soldiers rushed past Sico toward the western streets while one nearly slipped on wet pavement.
"How many attackers?!"
"Don't know yet!"
Another tower gunner screamed from above the walls:
"MOVEMENT LEFT SIDE!"
Heavy machine gun fire erupted again immediately afterward.
The Fog itself seemed alive beyond the perimeter now.
Shapes moved inside it.
Fast.
Hard to track.
The Children of Atom had chosen their timing carefully.
Early morning.
Low visibility.
Shift rotation hour.
Smart.
Very smart.
Mercer appeared from the command building already carrying his rifle while fastening combat armor straps across his chest.
"Western gate's taking the hit!"
"How bad?"
"Unknown!"
Another radio burst crackled sharply from his shoulder unit:
"…they're pushing through wreck barriers…"
"…need reinforcements NOW…"
Gunfire drowned the rest.
Sico looked toward the western wall where searchlights cut frantically across drifting Fog.
The Children weren't just probing.
They were attempting breakthrough assault.
That realization shifted everything instantly.
If they breached the western gate and reached the harbor interior before containment stabilized, civilian casualties would become catastrophic.
And worse—
Panic.
Far Harbor survived partly because the settlement still believed its walls held.
Lose that belief and the entire defensive structure risked unraveling psychologically.
Another explosion shook the western sector hard enough for nearby windows to rattle.
People flinched instinctively.
Then came screaming.
Not from fear.
Orders.
Combat commands shouted across overlapping defensive lines.
Mercer grabbed a nearby passing squad leader.
"Take your men to the secondary barricades!"
"What about the northern streets?!"
"Guard them if you want to live!"
The squad immediately peeled off through the Fog-covered harbor roads.
Near the walls, the remaining Sentinel tank suddenly roared to life.
Its engine thundered through the settlement with such deep mechanical force that nearby civilians actually stopped and looked toward it instinctively.
The massive turret rotated slowly toward the western approach while crew members climbed into position atop the armor plating.
Machine gun mounts locked forward.
The psychological effect happened instantly.
People steadied.
Not calm exactly.
But steadier.
The tank made the settlement feel less fragile.
One harbor resident clutching her child near a barricade whispered quietly:
"Thank God…"
The Sentinel commander's voice boomed through external speakers:
"CLEAR THE STREET!"
Civilians and soldiers immediately moved aside while the armored vehicle began grinding forward through the harbor road toward the gate.
Tracks crushed puddles beneath enormous weight while exhaust smoke rolled through the cold morning air.
The Children of Atom might attack the walls.
But now they would face a Sentinel directly inside the defensive sector.
Outside the perimeter, the battle intensified.
Through breaks in the Fog, defenders finally caught glimpses of the attackers.
Children of Atom fighters moving between ruined vehicles and debris fields near the outer barricades.
Some carried crude rocket launchers.
Others automatic rifles.
A few wore radiation-scarred robes beneath scavenged armor plating while screaming religious chants through the gunfire.
The watchtower machine guns hammered them relentlessly.
Bodies fell.
More kept coming.
"They're trying to force the breach point!" one tower defender yelled while reloading.
Another explosion erupted against the outer wall sector showering sparks and debris into the air.
Not enough to penetrate.
Enough to shake people.
Sico reached the western defensive line moments later where soldiers crouched behind sandbags firing into the Fog while medics dragged wounded men toward cover nearby.
The atmosphere smelled overwhelmingly of smoke and burned metal now.
One wounded guard clutched his bleeding shoulder while gritting teeth hard enough to shake.
"They came out of nowhere…"
A medic shoved him downward gently.
"Save your breath."
Nearby, Ward fired short controlled bursts through a barricade gap before ducking back behind cover.
"They used the Fog to close distance!"
"How many?"
"Enough!"
Another rocket streaked from the mist suddenly.
Someone screamed warning.
"RPG!"
The projectile slammed into a reinforced wreck barrier just outside the gate, detonating with a violent blast that shook the entire defensive line.
Metal fragments sprayed through the air.
Several defenders hit the ground instinctively.
Smoke rolled across the barricades.
And through that smoke, there's movement.
Children of Atom fighters charging hard toward the damaged outer defenses while screaming praise to Atom through gunfire.
For one dangerous second, the western line looked unstable.
Then the Sentinel arrived.
The tank rolled into firing position near the gate with overwhelming mechanical thunder while its turret locked onto the advancing attackers.
The main cannon fired.
The blast physically punched through the harbor streets.
A deafening explosion erupted beyond the walls as the shell obliterated the advancing assault group in one catastrophic impact.
Fire.
Smoke.
Shattered debris thrown skyward through the Fog.
Every defender nearby felt the concussion hit through their chest.
The battlefield froze briefly afterward.
Even the Children.
Because nothing human survived direct contact with a Sentinel round.
The tank's mounted machine guns opened fire immediately afterward.
Heavy caliber tracers tore through the Fog lines while advancing attackers scattered desperately for cover.
The momentum shifted almost instantly.
Mercer stared toward the impact zone while smoke drifted over the outer barricades.
"…Jesus Christ."
Nobody answered.
Because everyone else was staring too.
The Sentinel continued advancing slowly toward the gate interior while its machine guns hammered the outer approaches methodically.
The Children's assault suddenly looked far less confident now.
Several attackers began retreating back into the Fog.
Others remained pinned behind ruined vehicles outside the walls.
One watchtower spotter yelled down excitedly:
"They're breaking!"
Not fully.
Not yet.
But the attack had lost its momentum.
Far Harbor's defenders sensed it immediately.
Rifle fire intensified from the barricades.
Soldiers pushed forward harder against the outer firing lines.
The defenders weren't panicking anymore.
Now they were angry.
Very angry.
A younger Far Harbor guard rose partially above cover while firing toward retreating attackers.
"You picked the wrong damn harbor!"
Ward grabbed him immediately afterward and yanked him back down.
"Keep your head lower unless you want it removed!"
Another burst of incoming fire slammed into the sandbags overhead.
The battle still wasn't over.
But the worst moment had passed.
The Children of Atom had failed to breach the gate quickly.
Now they faced organized resistance, armored support, and prepared defensive lines.
Exactly the kind of prolonged engagement Far Harbor had become increasingly good at surviving.
Still, the cost remained visible everywhere.
Wounded defenders lay behind barricades waiting for treatment.
Smoke poured from damaged wall sections.
One watchtower burned partially where rocket fire had struck the lower supports.
The harbor streets behind the frontline filled with medics, ammunition runners, and reserve squads moving toward defensive sectors.
War had reached directly into the settlement itself now.
And everyone knew what that meant.
The Children of Atom weren't simply reacting to pressure anymore.
They were desperate enough to strike Far Harbor head-on despite the growing defenses.
The western gate became hell in layers.
Not one single overwhelming moment.
A hundred smaller ones stacked violently together.
Gunfire cracked nonstop through the Fog while tracer rounds slashed across the pale gray mist like burning wires. Smoke rolled between barricades and wrecked vehicles outside the wall while the heavy machine guns from the watchtowers hammered so continuously their barrels glowed faintly orange beneath the rain-damp morning air.
Far Harbor shook with battle.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
Every explosion vibrated through the steel-reinforced walls and flooded streets while the Sentinel tank continued advancing in slow deliberate movements near the gate interior, its tracks grinding against broken pavement with terrifying mechanical confidence.
The Children of Atom assault had stalled.
But stalled didn't mean defeated.
Not yet.
Outside the gate, shapes still moved through the Fog.
Some retreating.
Some firing from cover.
Others desperately trying to reorganize around ruined vehicles and debris piles blasted apart by the Sentinel's first shell.
The defenders knew better than to celebrate early.
Especially Sico.
He stood near the primary barricade line while incoming rounds snapped overhead and ricocheted off steel plating nearby. Around him, Far Harbor defenders cycled ammunition magazines with shaking hands while medics crawled between positions treating wounded beneath intermittent fire.
Mercer slammed another rifle magazine into place beside him.
"They're losing momentum!"
Sico didn't answer immediately.
Because he was watching the Fog.
Watching movement patterns.
The Children weren't charging anymore.
That mattered.
Their assault had shifted from aggressive breach attempt into fragmented exchanges of suppressive fire and scattered fallback movement.
They were beginning to break contact.
Which meant something important.
Fear had finally entered the equation.
The Sentinel had done more than stop the push.
It had shattered the psychological certainty behind it.
Children of Atom fighters believed in Atom.
Believed in radiation.
Believed in holy destruction.
But belief changed very quickly when seventy tons of armored steel erased entire assault groups with single cannon rounds.
Sico raised his voice sharply over the gunfire.
"Push them back."
Several nearby officers immediately turned.
Ward frowned slightly.
"Outside the barricades?"
"Yes."
That answer hit hard.
Because defensive fighting inside the walls was one thing.
Counterattacking into the Fog was another entirely.
Still, nobody argued.
Not now.
Not while the Children were destabilized.
Sico pointed toward the reserve staging area behind the western streets.
"Deploy the Humvees."
Mercer immediately grabbed his radio.
"All mobile teams move now!"
The harbor behind them exploded into even more motion.
Drivers sprinted toward parked Humvees while mechanics ripped tarp covers off mounted machine gun positions. Engines roared alive beneath the Fog one after another, deep and aggressive, while soldiers climbed into transport compartments carrying rifles, ammunition belts, and spare rockets.
One young driver nearly slipped climbing into his seat.
"Move move move!"
A gunner slammed the mounted machine gun charging handle violently.
"Already moving!"
Nearby civilians watched from shelter entrances with pale exhausted faces while the vehicles thundered toward the gate sectors.
The atmosphere shifted again.
Far Harbor wasn't merely surviving the attack anymore.
Now it was preparing to strike back.
Outside the barricades, the Sentinel fired another machine gun burst into retreating Fog positions while infantry squads began cautiously advancing beyond the outer defenses for the first time since the assault began.
The ground outside the gate looked devastated.
Burned wrecks.
Cratered mud.
Bodies partially obscured beneath drifting smoke and debris.
The smell out there was horrific now.
Burned metal.
Explosives.
Blood.
Cordite.
Wet earth ripped open by artillery fragments and tank fire.
War stripped everything human out of landscapes eventually.
It turned places into aftermath.
A Far Harbor rifleman stepped over shattered debris while breathing hard through clenched teeth.
"Keep spacing!"
Another soldier pointed toward movement near overturned barricades.
"CONTACT RIGHT!"
Gunfire erupted again immediately.
Children of Atom fighters still trapped near the outer wreck lines returned fire desperately while trying to disengage deeper into the Fog.
But the momentum had changed completely now.
Far Harbor's defenders were advancing.
And advancing behind armor.
The Sentinel rolled through the outer gate slowly like a moving fortress while its turret rotated methodically through the mist searching for hostile movement.
Every defender nearby felt stronger standing near it.
Safer.
Not invincible.
But less helpless.
That mattered more than people realized during war.
Morale could hold lines almost as effectively as concrete.
One wounded guard sitting against a barricade watched the tank pass while a medic wrapped fresh bandages around his arm.
"…Feels like we've got a damn battleship driving through town."
The medic didn't even look up.
"Good."
Then another explosion thundered somewhere ahead.
Not the Sentinel this time.
Rocket detonation.
The projectile slammed against ruined debris near advancing Far Harbor infantry, spraying dirt and metal fragments across the road.
One soldier screamed and hit the ground clutching his leg.
"Medic!"
Instantly two others dragged him behind cover while returning fire toward the launch point.
The Children were retreating.
But they were still dangerous.
Desperate enemies usually were.
Sico moved forward beyond the gate with the advancing line while Mercer stayed close beside him beneath constant radio chatter.
"Southern flank stable."
"Tower three reporting reduced contact."
"Western road partially secured."
Another voice burst through static:
"…Humvee convoy approaching outer perimeter…"
Right on time.
The first armored Humvee emerged through the gate moments later with engine growling hard while the mounted machine gun atop it rotated toward the Fog-covered road ahead.
Then another behind it.
Then a third.
The vehicles spread outward carefully around the advancing infantry while soldiers inside scanned the tree lines and wreck fields with visible tension.
The machine gunner atop the lead Humvee grinned grimly while chambering the weapon.
"Now we're talking."
The Humvees accelerated forward beyond the destroyed barricade sectors, tires spraying mud behind them while mounted guns opened fire toward retreating Children positions deeper in the Fog.
Heavy caliber rounds tore through ruined vehicles and tree lines with brutal force.
The battlefield widened immediately.
The Children of Atom had expected resistance at the walls.
They had not expected Far Harbor to launch armored pursuit so quickly afterward.
That realization started breaking them apart.
Retreat movement became more obvious now.
Scattered groups pulling back westward.
Some firing while moving.
Others abandoning positions entirely.
A few dragging wounded comrades into the Fog while shouting frantically to each other.
Their assault had failed.
And they knew it.
Ward crouched beside shattered concrete near the roadside while reloading.
"They're pulling out!"
Mercer glanced toward Sico.
"We hold the perimeter?"
Sico looked toward the Fog where the retreating attackers disappeared deeper between ruined structures and dead trees.
Then he answered calmly.
"No."
Mercer already understood the implication before the next words arrived.
Sico grabbed the nearby field radio from an operator crouched behind cover.
"Artillery command, this is Sico."
Static crackled.
Then:
"Command receiving."
His eyes stayed fixed on the retreating movement ahead.
"Prepare barrage pattern western withdrawal corridor."
Even nearby soldiers looked toward him sharply.
Artillery.
Now.
Not inside close combat range.
Not near the walls.
But farther out—
Where the Children believed distance and Fog would protect them.
The radio operator hesitated briefly.
"Confirm target distance?"
Sico answered immediately.
"Wait until they clear five hundred meters from the gate."
Mercer exhaled slowly beside him.
There it was.
The trap.
Far Harbor had allowed the Children enough room to retreat beyond immediate defensive pressure.
Far enough to regroup slightly.
Far enough to think survival remained possible.
Then the artillery would erase the road behind them.
The cold efficiency of it settled across the command staff instantly.
No celebration.
No dramatic speeches.
Just warfare becoming methodical.
Outside the walls, the pursuit continued.
Humvees pushed forward carefully beneath heavy Fog while infantry squads secured abandoned assault positions one by one. The Sentinel remained near the outer perimeter sector providing overwatch rather than plunging recklessly deeper into uncertain terrain.
Smart.
Very smart.
Even now Sico refused to overextend.
One Far Harbor soldier kicked aside a discarded Children rifle near the road.
"They really thought they could break through."
Another defender answered grimly while scanning the mist.
"They almost did."
That silence afterward mattered.
Because it was true.
Without the Sentinel.
Without rapid response coordination.
Without reinforced defenses built over recent weeks, the attack might have succeeded.
That realization stayed lodged in everyone's chest whether spoken aloud or not.
The Children of Atom had not launched a suicidal raid this morning.
They had launched a real assault.
And Far Harbor had barely stopped it before the breach point destabilized.
Farther ahead, retreating Children fighters continued falling back through the Fog in increasingly scattered formations while occasional exchanges of gunfire echoed through the woods.
The mounted machine guns atop the Humvees kept pressure on them constantly.
Not enough to fully close distance.
Enough to keep panic spreading.
One Humvee gunner shouted over the roar of the engine:
"They're running!"
Another burst of machine gun fire ripped through nearby trees.
"Good!"
Sico checked the distance markers near the western approach roads while artillery spotters adjusted coordinates through binoculars and radio triangulation.
The battlefield stretched eerily through the Fog now.
Burning wreckage near the walls.
Retreating shadows farther west.
Searchlights cutting weakly through drifting smoke.
Then finally, the spotter lowered his binoculars slightly.
"Five hundred meters."
Everyone nearby understood immediately.
Sico took the radio again.
"Artillery command."
Static hissed softly.
"Ready."
"Fire."
The response came instantly.
"Confirmed."
Then silence.
Brief.
Heavy.
The kind of silence soldiers learned to recognize right before artillery arrived.
Far Harbor's defenders paused almost instinctively while staring westward into the Fog.
Even the retreating Children likely heard it too.
Distant at first.
A low rolling thunder somewhere beyond the harbor.
Then the artillery batteries opened fire.
The sound smashed across the island.
Multiple guns firing nearly simultaneously from the rear sectors behind Far Harbor. Deep concussive booms rolled through the air while artillery shells screamed invisibly overhead toward the retreat corridor.
The defenders near the gate watched silently.
A few seconds later, big impact.
The western Fog erupted.
Massive explosions tore across the retreating road sectors in violent overlapping chains of fire, dirt, smoke, and shattered trees. The bombardment walked directly across the Children's withdrawal route with terrifying precision.
The earth itself seemed to convulse.
One shell detonated beside an abandoned truck carcass, flipping twisted metal through the air like paper.
Another struck near a retreating formation hidden inside the Fog.
Screams carried faintly beneath the explosions.
Then vanished beneath another impact.
The barrage intensified.
Shell after shell crashing into the western approaches while smoke towers climbed into the gray sky beyond the harbor walls.
Far Harbor's soldiers stood watching in grim silence now.
No cheering.
No excitement.
Just the ugly reality of overwhelming firepower unleashed against retreating men.
Mercer folded his arms slowly.
"They'll think twice before charging the gate again."
Sico didn't answer.
Because this wasn't really about punishment.
It was about message.
The Children of Atom needed to understand something clearly now:
Far Harbor was no longer vulnerable prey hiding behind fishing docks and wooden walls.
It had become a fortress.
And fortresses hit back.
The artillery barrage continued for nearly a full minute before finally tapering off into scattered final impacts farther west.
Then silence returned gradually.
Smoke drifted heavily through the Fog-covered roads while burning debris crackled faintly somewhere beyond visual range.
No movement remained visible.
Only aftermath.
One younger defender swallowed hard beside the barricades.
"…God."
The older sergeant next to him stared toward the smoking western sectors.
"That's war."
Simple words.
Heavy ones.
The Sentinel tank remained motionless near the gate afterward while heat shimmer rose from its cannon barrel into the cold morning air.
Far Harbor's defenders slowly began reorganizing around the damaged perimeter sectors as medics moved among the wounded and engineering crews inspected rocket damage along the walls.
______________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-