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|Faction||Atomic Kingdom of China|
|Country of Origin||China|
|Made by||Sacred Shengxiao Factory, Wuhai|
|Key Features|| » Jaded fist (zodiac-decorated)|
» Atomic fire generator
» Hover propulsion
» Ominous glow (Very green)
» Inscription of the Chinese calendar
"Only my hand can carry out the vengeance we seek!"
- - Zodiac Fist "puncher"
The Hand of Jade: Chapter 1, published by Chen Writings Edit
After the last wave, Sergei and the remnants of his Conscript battalion gathered around the remains of a Alkonost propaganda walker. They were all exhausted, demoralized, the propaganda walker no longer capable of blaring. He looked around at his tired comrades and noted that out of the entire battalion, only a handful survived the last Chinese onslaught during sunset.
He sat down on the cold but soft snow, panting, lethargic, on the last verges of sanity. There were burning wrecks. Craters. Spent shells, blasted chunks of who knows what. Most prominent were giant fist-shaped craters in the ground where some of the Conscripts avoided due to strange illnesses associated with funny-shaped craters.
Sergei raised a hand up and polished his lieutenant badge lovingly, and slowly pulled out his little diary that he had carefully hidden from the commissars and begin writing in it:
We've been holding off the Chinese assault for the better part of the week, our enemies seem to be relentless and without limits in numbers. During the last assault, I saw fifteen Chinese soldiers charge at one of our Tesla coils with their close combat weapons, it was madness watching the brave soldiers charge at the Tesla coil, since the Tesla coil simply charged up and with a hair-standing 'ZAP', electrifying them until they were ashes and skeletons.
Our squad leader Nikolai, was killed during their last assault when he was literally punched to death by a giant machine. I was then put in charge of command of my squad, and all that is left of the 1021st Conscript division. Smirnov, Andrei, Khruschev, Antonov, some of the other Conscripts whose names I cannot remember are the only ones left...
I look around, as our last Apocalypse Tank drives up to us to reassure us, somehow. We are terrified of the Apocalypse Tank, yet we depend on him for our survival. We also have Medvedev, the last Flak Trooper alive, sorting out his flak pellets, throwing away the bad ones.
Our comrade, this...unknown man in his Tesla suit stands quiet, without moving at all, looking into the sunset with his small porthole. Myria...I don't know what to do...I don't know what to say to my men. I'm afraid that I won't be there to see our dear child Natascha when she is born. I only hope that this diary can reach you somehow, somewhere in the vast tundras of our mother Russia. This diary, I shall pass it to the eager driver of an Ore Collector who is ferrying our grievously wounded back to Kiev in his ore bay.
I never regretted meeting you, nor signing up to fight for the glory of our motherland.
I love you, Myria.
After the Engineers completed their bunkers and pulled back, the Conscripts finished their preparation for their last stand. Sergei gathered the handful of Conscripts he had left. Looking at each one of their dirty and scared faces, he slowly addressed them:
"Comrades! We are the Conscripts! We are the backbone of the Red Army! When defeat seems inevitable, it is up to us to uphold the Russian way! And how do we do that? We stick out our chest, raise our rifles and stare the enemy right in the eye, guns blazing! You will not back down! Remember! Not a single step back!!"
Immediately after Sergei said that, there was a humming. Mechanical whirrings. Giant footsteps. The ground trembled. The sun was setting for the last time, for Sergei. He and his men's eyes would be full of sad resignation. As the Flak Trooper stood up and put his flak cannon on his shoulder, the Tesla Trooper raised an arm sparking with electricity. The Apocalypse Tank turned its turret, seeming to look at Sergei before looking at the horizon.
In the sunset horizon, a fist slowly emerged, glowing brightly with the terrible energy it held. Slowly, the arm of the fist emerged, followed by the entire monstrous machine itself. Chinese Watchmen charged at the Conscripts with their weapons ahead of the giant fist, as three-legged machines walked a distance behind the fist. Sergei and his men immediately pulled their triggers.
As the Watchmen were shot and killed one by one, the giant fist approached. The ominous green glow with the sunset behind it was a bad combination. The Flak Trooper pulled out his Schardin mines, dropped his flak cannon and tapped Sergei on the shoulder. "We do this together, comrade." The Tesla Trooper laid his heavy, armoured arm on Sergei's other shoulder, silent.
The giant fist loomed in front of Sergei as the three of them stared up at the glowing eye-camera of the machine, as Sergei's comrades fired with all their might at the giant machine. "Comrades! NOT A STEP BACK!! CHARGE!!!" Sergei gave his last command. The giant fist came down at Sergei as he pulled back his arm and repeated the same punching motion back at the fist that was bearing down at him. With a crackle of electricity, mines going off and Drakon cannons firing, Sergei's fist seemed to meet the giant mechanical fist.
The sky was red, unnaturally red. As if the sky was painted with blood...
"Comrade, a lady wants to see you."