Marik Keir had already recorded his 58th birthday a month ago. In the Invernas Hive, he is already a veritable old man at this age.
The gravel in his body from the desert plains caused pain when he moved or moved, and it was not until these days that he recovered much better than before.
Years on the plains can take a heavy toll on a person, who has to deal with scrapes and ensuing infections, and then has to worry about blackening their lungs with dust that gets into their mouths and noses.
But no matter what, people who work hard outdoors for a long time will have their lungs fail due to exhaustion and infection, and they will spend the rest of their lives coughing up bloody phlegm.
Painful eyes are also a constant affliction - they always shed tears and sometimes become dry.
Even his hearing was not very sensitive, and only the Emperor knew what decades of wind and sand had done to his ear canals.
When his blood surged and his heart beat faster, everything in the world became blurry and silent, as if he was underwater.
But of all, his heart was the most damaged, and it kept fussing at him every time he walked a little longer.
All in all, he has every right to complain, but he rarely does.
Marik Gere was not a man who enjoyed reliving pain. Although he tried to explain life on the desert plains to those around him, it did not work. It was the same as Marik's own father tried to explain to him. The words are exactly the same, and then there are the long-term and short-term pains in this life.
As the city's sirens wailed discordantly, he was caught up in these memories that kept replaying.
"really--"
He said loudly that the storm started very early this year. The last time he heard from the radio was that it would be at least a few weeks or even a month away.
Not long ago, there were rumors among the neighbors that the front line had suffered a defeat. Marek thought that was pure nonsense - those green-skinned bullshit were just like the cockroaches in the cracks of his furniture. Apart from being disgusting, they would never do anything. The second effect.
They would only be crushed to death gently like vermin, and Marek was confident enough in this.
The old man pulled himself up from the sofa where he was lying, tasting the air through his teeth as his knees trembled, and both knee joints regained consciousness under the prick of the needle.
There's no doubt that getting older is a whiny thing.
A shadow passed through his window, and he looked up as his fist struck the board that served as the door.
"The Emperor's throne."
His knees protested against him again, but he had to get up and walk away anyway.
Guard Officer Barak Hughes is on the other side of the door, armed and ready. The worn guard laser rifle is no longer intact after thousands of years of operation, but as the watchman of South 21st Street, he has the right to carry the weapon on patrol. .
"Want to catch some sand rabbits?"
Marik almost laughed and gestured to the gun.
"It's too early to shoot the robbers, boy."
"Those alarms."
Barak was breathing heavily, and it was obvious that he was running - passing through the streets made of muddy alleys made of buried buildings.
"The storm has come early."
The old man poked his head outside the door, only to see that the horizon was blocked by the ragged skyline of the hive city. People were driven out of their houses and mingled in the streets from all directions.
Barak shook his head.
"Hurry up, you deaf old guy, go to the underground shelter."
"never."
The old man's stubbornness was like that of most people in this city, and this place was not far from the military camp. There were many Chimeras there. These armors could resist the worst things in the sandstorm.
"Listen to me, this is not a sandstorm, the hive is being attacked."
After a while, Marek didn't know whether to laugh or lie back on the bed.
"…What's wrong?"
"This is not a joke. I heard that the defense chief has gone crazy, or...I don't know anything else. Please! Look at the sky, you old stone!"
Marek had seen something similar to the panic in Barak's eyes on the faces of those who served outside the high wall, the instinctive fear of animals lost on the plains, turning their bodies directionlessly at the beginning of a sandstorm, absolutely
Powerlessness painted the man's face, making it ugly and sickly.
He looked towards the command tower far to the west, where a beam of orange light illuminated the evening sky behind the city.
"who?"
The old man asked in a low voice:
"Who would attack us? Who would even know we were here? Who would care?"
No one answered him.
Barak had already started running and joined the crowd. The old man saw him stretching out his cloth-wrapped hand to help a boy stand and then pushing him into the crowded queue.
Marek Keel waited a moment as he walked back to his house with his aching knees and arthritic hands. When he reappeared, he grabbed his rifle - which worked fine, thank God.
.
He used it while serving as a volunteer watchman, and after retiring from detecting storms, he used it to shoot hive raiders.
Then he followed the edge of the crowd, and when the crowd advanced to the east, he walked to the west.
If the hive city is attacked, there is no point in running around and hiding. Old Malik always knows how to perform his duties.
He lowered his head and briefly checked his gun.
At this moment, he seemed to hear a roar.
Everyone in the crowd screamed, cowered, and held their heads as the giant beast roared above them. When they looked up at it, their ears were deafened.
Only Marik remained the same, his bloodshot eyes staring in awe.
Something darker than the gray sky spreads roars in the sky. These are not monsters at all, but aircraft, painted red and crude in appearance, gliding in dense formations from the spire of the hive city.
The crowd was screaming again now, and the emaciated parents hugged their even emaciated children and covered their eyes.
These fighter planes, which looked like pieces of junk, tilted above them, and the flames of the propellers surged out like strong winds blowing against its armor.
They relied on their own momentum to hover gracefully in the air, fighting against the howling wind. When they turned, their heads glanced at the crowd below, and the propellers burst out with another thunderous roar, shaking the surrounding buildings.
In the blink of an eye, a formation of fighter planes flew across the sky. There was no doubt that they were not human aircraft.
After being stunned for a moment, Marik suddenly started running, the pain in his joints having been ignored for a long time.
"Ler me get through,"
As he spoke, he passed through the separated crowds, and the escapees in the opposite direction were slightly encouraged by his actions.
Marek ran three streets before his knees gave up the fight.
When he couldn't hold on anymore, he held onto a wall, cursing the stinging pain in his joints, and his heart wasn't feeling much better, pumping blood through his chest.
Marik hammered his chest, as if anger could soothe the fire spreading inside him.
More clouds are reflected in the orange light, and more and more places in the city are on fire.
He caught his breath and forced his knees to obey him - and they trembled in response.
Old Marik staggered forward, successfully crossing two streets this time before stopping to catch his breath.
"I'm too old for this folly."
He leaned against a wall while coughing, but ignored some kind of screams and roars.
Marik didn't hear this. Even though the noise was only a few meters away from him, he still tried hard to catch his breath.
His blood pressure rose and his heart beat violently, causing him to become deaf in his ears.
He saw the streets clearing up as people left, then looked back at him, seeming to be calling something -