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Falcon City.
Once a prosperous metropolis, its streets now lay eerily desolate.
Except for a few main roads leading to the royal palace and military camps that remained open, the rest of the avenues and alleys were cluttered with barricades and makeshift fortifications.
A few laborers worked hard to rivet together scrap iron into caltrop-shaped anti-tank hedgehogs, which was the eleventh one they had finished that day.
Their foreman told them it could stop the New Alliance's tanks. But nearly everyone believed it was a pointless effort.
If even the Levees couldn't stop the New Alliance's tank treads, how could these hastily assembled contraptions do anything? They could easily just smash through the buildings lining the streets and go around them.
"I heard Bist Town has fallen," said a shirtless man, wiping the sweat from his brow, leaning against a freshly assembled hedgehog.
The laborers around him all looked over. An older man in his forties or fifties muttered skeptically, "Reall...
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