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| Kalimord | Posted: 05-07-2025 13:10:22 |
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Kalimord in Retreat as Enemy Alliance Gains Ground; Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun Vows Revenge July 5, 2025 | Global Dispatch News Network (GDN) KALIMORD— The totalitarian regime of Kalimord, once a cornerstone of the New World Order's iron grip over the Eastern Territories, has suffered a series of major setbacks as allied enemy forces continue their advance across the war-torn borderlands. After weeks of coordinated assaults by the Coalition of Free States (CFS), key strongholds in the province of Drazek have fallen, triggering mass evacuations and widespread chaos within Kalimord’s interior. Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun, appearing in a rare and defiant broadcast from the fortified capital of Virelok, declared that Kalimord “will not kneel to imperialist dogs” and vowed a brutal retaliation. “Let the world watch,” he said, “as the fires of vengeance are lit beneath the boots of our enemies.” Independent observers, who have had limited access to the region due to strict censorship, report mounting casualties and humanitarian crises in the wake of the retreat. Drone footage analyzed by defense experts confirms the destruction of critical supply routes and infrastructure, weakening Kalimord’s already strained logistics network. The Coalition, comprised of former dissident states and backed by global powers, issued a joint statement urging Ho Chi Sun to surrender and face trial for crimes against humanity. “This is not only a battle for territory,” said General Irina Vos of the CFS High Command, “it is a battle for the soul of a free world.” Despite mounting losses, Kalimord’s loyalist forces remain entrenched and unpredictable. Intelligence agencies warn of potential chemical retaliation and scorched-earth tactics, hallmarks of Ho Chi Sun’s brutal legacy. As the tide of war shifts, the world watches closely. Whether Kalimord’s fall will mark the end of an era—or the beginning of something worse—remains uncertain. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 08-07-2025 05:12:02 |
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Kalimord Accused of Using Slave and POW Labor to Rebuild War-Ravaged Infrastructure July 7, 2025 — International Desk In the latest development from the authoritarian state of Kalimord, international observers and human rights groups are raising alarm over credible reports that the regime is using prisoners of war and forced labor to accelerate its post-conflict reconstruction efforts. According to leaked documents and satellite imagery analyzed by the Human Liberty Consortium (HLC), construction projects in several war-torn provinces—including the heavily bombarded industrial zone of Velstara—are being staffed by foreign POWs, some of whom were rounded up during military crackdowns earlier this year. Witnesses describe bleak conditions at labor sites, with detainees working 12 to 16-hour shifts under armed supervision, often without adequate food or medical care. “They are treated as disposable tools,” said one anonymous source close to a humanitarian group operating near the border. “Kalimord is rebuilding its roads and power grids on the backs of the voiceless.” The Kalimordi government has denied the allegations, calling them “Western propaganda” designed to undermine national sovereignty. State media claims the workforce is composed of "volunteer labor brigades" motivated by "patriotic duty." However, watchdogs note that Kalimord has refused all independent inspections of labor camps since early 2024, and multiple UN requests for access remain unanswered. “This is a clear violation of the Geneva Conventions and modern principles of human dignity,” said Marie Tolven, a spokesperson for the International Justice Commission. “Kalimord is using war not only to expand its borders, but to deepen repression at home.” Calls for sanctions and legal action are mounting, though geopolitical divisions at the UN Security Council continue to hamper a unified response. As Kalimord presses ahead with its ambitious rebuilding campaign, the international community faces growing pressure to address what many are calling a hidden humanitarian catastrophe unfolding behind barbed wire and bulldozers. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 10-07-2025 06:17:07 |
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The rain fell in sheets over the steel skyline of Helios as dusk rolled in, painting the city in muted gold and violet. Beneath the glittering towers and Coalition banners, a different kind of storm was brewing—one not born of clouds, but of vengeance. In the industrial underbelly of Sector Twelve, three figures moved like ghosts through forgotten utility tunnels. Clad in ragged cloaks and breathing through old rebreathers, they carried no insignia. But their hearts burned with a name: Irmandade. "Target confirmed. Ho Chi Sun arrives at the Assembly Tower in under ninety minutes," whispered Dael, the youngest of the trio, peering into a cracked tactical tablet. "He's expected to address the full Coalition Council. All eyes on him. Perfect moment." "Then the world will see the lie bleed," growled Marra, the leader, her face scarred by plasma burns from the Siege of Vinark. "And the Coalition will feel our presence—again." Their mission was simple: assassinate Ho Chi Sun, Supreme Strategist of the New World Coalition. The man whose tactics had turned rebel strongholds into rubble. The man Irmandade blamed for the death of a generation. As they climbed a forgotten ventilation shaft beneath Assembly Tower’s west annex, the city above throbbed with light and song. Ho Chi Sun’s speech was to celebrate the induction of new member states. Peace was the promise. But peace, the rebels believed, was a lie. Marra reached the control grate first. With a flick of her blade, it popped open. Below, in the chamber beyond, stood a solitary figure flanked by guards—a rehearsed walk-through before the speech. It was Sun. Dael set the pulse-charge. "Thirty seconds. Clean blast. No trace." But just before the timer started, Marra paused. Something was off. The figure below turned—an uncanny stiffness in his movement. Sun’s face, visible through reinforced glass, was smiling... but not breathing. "A decoy," Marra hissed. "It’s a trap." Before Dael could disable the charge, floodlights ignited, and coilguns whined to life. Coalition operatives poured into the shaft from above and below. The rebels fought with the fury of cornered wolves, blades and plasma flashing in the dark, but it was no use. Dael fell screaming into the depths. Orro was vaporized. Marra—bleeding, coughing, alive—was dragged into a black shuttle under high security. Two hours later, the real Ho Chi Sun stepped onto the Assembly Tower’s stage, his uniform immaculate, his voice calm and clear. “We face not just enemies on the battlefield, but shadows in our midst,” he said. “Let this day remind the world: unity is not weakness. It is our greatest weapon.” Somewhere, in a cell beneath Helios, Marra spat blood and laughed. “You still don’t understand,” she muttered to the empty walls. “We are not shadows. We are the fire coming for you.” And it was not out yet. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 11-07-2025 05:23:24 |
| The Gallop of the Forgotten
The night in Sector 7-Delta fell like a shroud over the fractured city of Caolinn, where flickering holo-signs cast ghostly blue glows onto rain-slicked metal streets. High above, in the steel fortress of the Governor’s Tower, Ho Chi Sun stirred in restless sleep. The war for Ambroid had been long. The Irmandade rebels were relentless, but even in victory, peace evaded him. In the silence of sleep, the nightmare returned. The wind howled across a blood-red plain. Fields once fertile with plasteel rice now burned in orange embers, and the air smelled of iron and ash. In the distance, a rhythmic thundering began — hooves. They came from the shadows, silhouettes upon the dying light. Riders on dark steeds, tall and terrible, clad in armor that shimmered like oil. But it was their heads — or lack thereof — that twisted the dream into horror. Each one bore a ragged stump at the neck, spewing smoke and spectral flame. In their hands were swords etched with runes Ho Chi Sun could never read, but felt — words of judgment, of vengeance. He turned to run, but his feet sank into the ground like tar. The lead rider, tallest of all, raised his blade and pointed it directly at him. "You forget us," the wind whispered, though no lips moved. "You buried us under steel and silence." The headless rider charged. Ho screamed and awoke in his quarters, drenched in sweat, chest heaving. The rain outside mirrored the storm inside him. He clutched the edge of his desk, where old reports lay: massacres in the outlands, entire villages erased for Irmandade "containment." He remembered now — operations sealed under Executive Order Omega, names erased. But memory had a way of rising, and in his dreams, the dead rode on horseback, bearing no heads, only rage. A chime. His aide’s voice on the comm: "Governor Sun? There’s been another breach. Irmandade cells in the northeast." He nodded silently. The war never ended. Not really. And as he suited up in the mirror’s cold reflection, he caught the briefest flicker behind him — a rider, a sword, and no face. Ho Chi Sun closed his eyes. And he listened to the hooves. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 11-07-2025 05:31:20 |
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In a major show of force and unity, the New World Order (NWO) announced today the formal inclusion of three new member states into its growing alliance, pledging immediate military and logistical support to President Oscar "The Owl" and his embattled government. The announcement, delivered from the NWO's central command hub in Geneva-9, comes amid escalating clashes between loyalist forces and Irmandade separatists, who have launched a series of coordinated uprisings across Ambroid’s southern hemisphere. President Oscar, known widely as “The Owl” for his strategic patience and near-legendary intelligence network, addressed the public from a fortified command bunker in Gharan City. "The Irmandade sow chaos in the name of false liberation," he declared. "But we are not alone. The world stands with us. Order will prevail." NWO High Marshal Erina Vost confirmed the deployment of over 25,000 peacekeeping troops, armored divisions, and aerial drone wings within the next 72 hours. "The Irmandade threat is not local — it is ideological, insurgent, and metastasizing. President Oscar is the lawful leader , and we will defend the sovereignty of his government by any means necessary," Vost said. The Irmandade, a shadowy network of separatists and insurgents, have long accused the NWO of imperial overreach and branded Oscar’s regime a puppet government. Yet recent Irmandade bombings in civilian zones and suspected use of outlawed kinetic orbital weaponry have hardened global sentiment against them. Reports from the ground indicate renewed fighting in the Ironwood Expanse and the outskirts of Kessal Hold, with NWO forces already reinforcing key infrastructure points. A no-fly zone has been declared across Central Ambroid. Analysts believe this expansion solidifies the NWO's grip on global security and signals a long-term commitment to quelling insurrectionist movements across the sector. As night falls on Ambroid, the symbol of the Owl — once a quiet guardian — now soars on the wings of a global alliance, ready to strike. — END — "They Call It Order, But We Call It Chains": Irmandade Responds to New World Order Intervention SHADOW FREQUENCY TRANSMISSION — UNKNOWN LOCATION — July 11, 2325 In a defiant broadcast transmitted across the pirate relay network known as The Veil, Irmandade leaders condemned the New World Order’s military intervention , accusing President Oscar “The Owl” of inviting occupation in exchange for maintaining his grip on power. "This is not liberation. This is conquest dressed in the robes of diplomacy," said a masked figure identifying themselves only as Commander Xim. "Oscar the Owl has sold out to the highest bidder. But we — the true sons and daughters of this world — will never kneel." The broadcast aired mere hours after NWO High Marshal Erina Vost confirmed the deployment of 25,000 troops to reinforce Oscar's government, which has been losing ground in key provinces over the last lunar cycle. Irmandade cells have surged in both numbers and coordination, reclaiming several districts across the Ironwood Expanse and igniting insurrection in previously pacified zones. Commander Xim criticized the NWO’s "peacekeeping" label as propaganda. "They bring tanks to silence farmers. Drones to burn forests. And they call it peace," Xim said, holding up a scorched child's toy allegedly found in the ruins of a village bombed by loyalist aircraft. Irmandade leadership accuses the NWO of systematically dismantling local councils, outlawing traditional languages, and installing surveillance grids across cities — all under the guise of "stability." They claim these moves are designed to erase Ambroid’s cultural identity and fold it into a technocratic regime. Despite being branded terrorists by the NWO, the Irmandade continues to gain support among disaffected civilians, former military defectors, and nomads known as the Dustborn. In recent weeks, rebel broadcasts have featured testimonies from towns liberated from loyalist control, showing images of burned-out propaganda halls and toppled statues of Oscar. "Let the world watch," Xim declared. "Let them see the truth behind their ‘Owl’ — a predator in robes, hiding behind foreign steel. Ambroid is not theirs to govern. It is ours to free." The message ended with a chilling promise: "They’ve brought their empire to our doorstep. Now, we will bring the fire to theirs." — END — |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 11-07-2025 14:50:43 |
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Title: The Skyroots of Kalimord In the scarred but thriving heart of the world of Ambroid, nestled between the blackened mountain ranges of Veldmaar and the salt-blasted Murran Plains, lies the young but fiercely determined nation of Kalimord. Only twenty years past its liberation from the corporate kingdoms of Zhexon Prime, Kalimord had little to offer its citizens but land—4,000 acres of it, won through war, grit, and defiance. Yet, from these meager bones, a new kind of civilization took root. The miracle of Kalimord lay not in its size, but in its design. Its leaders, survivors of occupation and environmental collapse, knew sprawl meant death. Ambroid's sky was often choked with ashstorms, and its soil was fragile from centuries of mining and warfare. So Kalimord built up, not out. The 3,500 Hangers The most iconic structures were the sky hangers, vast vertical towers resembling tree trunks of polished ironwood and solar mesh. Each "hanger" was not a place to store coats, but a hybrid structure combining vertical aerospace docking, housing, and hydroponics. Designed by ex-engineers of the Ambroid Sky Corps, these hangers rose like blades of grass in ordered groves, each no more than 40 feet apart, stretching high into the cloud-smeared skies. Each hanger was multi-functional: The lower levels were homes for single occupants or couples. The mid-levels held drone ports, cargo chutes, and wind turbines. The upper tiers were sky-landing pads for personal fliers and shuttlecraft, housing small craft that replaced cars in Kalimord's airbound economy. With clever use of folded steel, recycled glasscrete, and adaptive solar skins, a single hanger could house five families, service three drones, and land a skimmer, all on a base footprint of less than 100 square meters. The 300 Farms Kalimord’s farms were not traditional fields—they were aerial and vertical ecosystems built into reclaimed mining shafts and terraced cliff sides. The 300 farms operated on stacked platforms reaching underground or skyward, each one the size of a basketball court but layered with smart-soil trays and UV-mimicking domes. Using rotational crop programming and insect pollination drones, each vertical farm could produce the food equivalent of 20 conventional acres per year. They grew protein-rich mosses, root crops, and hybrid grains modified for Ambroid’s unique atmosphere. Some farms were mobile—housed in modified crawler tanks—while others floated on helium lifts, adjusting height based on light conditions and ashfall levels. The 300 Homes While the hangers provided dense vertical living, 300 freestanding homes dotted the greenbelts and lake edges. These were for families with children, elder artisans, or those with disabilities needing accessible designs. Each home was 3D-printed from recycled polymers and locally mined basalt dust, with green roofs, water-recycling systems, and wind sails. Their spacing was generous but strategic: each home was part of a cell cluster surrounding a communal hub—shared kitchens, clinics, and makerspaces. No house stood alone; every dwelling was part of Kalimord’s living web. With 3,500 vertical hangers, 300 multi-tier farms, and 300 sustainable homes, Kalimord used only 3,200 acres of its 4,000. The remaining 800 acres were forested for carbon capture, preserved for wildlife corridors, or served as sacred ground for the memory of those who fought in the Great Reclamation War. In Kalimord, every meter counted. Every structure rose with purpose. It wasn’t just a nation—it was a promise made from ash and metal: that life on Ambroid would not just survive—but take flight. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 12-07-2025 13:55:10 |
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In the shadowed heartlands of the world of Ambroid, the once-promising nation of Kalimord has become a dark emblem of authoritarian rule, militarism, and mass suffering. Under the iron fist of Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun, Kalimord has transformed from a land of innovators and farmers into a war machine fueled by propaganda, scarcity, and unrelenting rage. The Regime: The Cult of Sun Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun rose to power after a devastating civil war, promising order, pride, and vengeance. Instead, he delivered a totalitarian regime built on surveillance, fear, and endless war. His image is omnipresent—etched into every building, draped on every wall, and broadcast on all state-run media. The people are taught from birth that Ho Chi Sun is “The Flame That Never Dies,” the chosen guardian of Kalimord’s destiny. Dissent is met with immediate punishment. Even minor infractions—hoarding food, questioning orders, or hesitating to chant the daily oaths—can result in arrest, forced labor, or execution. The regime maintains order through the Kalimordic Peace Forces (KPF), a brutal paramilitary organization known for dragging entire families into “re-education bunkers.” The People: Warlike, Malnourished, and Angry The average Kalimordian is thin, hardened, and constantly simmering with resentment. Meat is a luxury reserved for soldiers. For the rest, meals consist of a watery gruel known as Red Root Ration, sometimes mixed with powdered insects or synthetic starches. Children are raised in militarized boarding camps, where they are taught to idolize Ho Chi Sun, hate his enemies, and fire rifles before they can read. By age 16, most are conscripted into the People’s Sky Legion or the Groundward Striker Corps, units frequently deployed against internal rebels and foreign adversaries. Despite their suffering, the Kalimordians are fiercely nationalistic. Years of indoctrination, compounded by personal losses, have forged a population that sees war as inevitable and peace as betrayal. “Victory or Ashes” is the national motto—whispered by the starving, screamed by the marching. Culture of Fire and Iron Art, music, and religion are tightly controlled, used only to glorify the regime. Traditional instruments have been replaced by harsh drums and metallic horns used during military parades. Poetry is written only in praise of Ho Chi Sun or in mourning of fallen warriors. Any folk culture seen as “weak” or “nostalgic” has been outlawed. Public events are choreographed performances of loyalty: mass chants, weapon demonstrations, and ritual burnings of enemy effigies. Once a month, citizens are required to attend “Purification Marches”, where suspected dissidents are publicly shamed or executed in front of silent crowds. A Nation on the Brink While Ho Chi Sun’s grip on power remains unshaken, cracks are forming. Black markets thrive in the shadows. Whispers of rebellion echo through underground tunnels and broken radio frequencies. The Irmandade resistance continues to strike key military targets, and deserters tell of growing disillusionment within the ranks. But for now, Kalimord remains a brutal relic of war—a nation whose soul has been scorched by fear, hunger, and blood. Its people, battered and burning, march under the gaze of a leader who promises glory, yet delivers only shadow. In Kalimord, hope is a crime, and silence is survival. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 12-07-2025 13:58:22 |
| Ambroid – In a stunning turn of events, the rebel coalition known as the Irmandade has successfully liberated nearly 75% of the planet Ambroid from the grip of the New World Order (NWO), marking a decisive shift in the global balance of power and igniting celebrations—and retaliations—across the war-torn world.
After months of coordinated offensives, surprise raids, and underground resistance campaigns, Irmandade commanders declared victory across major territories, including the vital Northern Arc Cities, the Kiril Plains, and the resource-rich Zephra Corridors. In a broadcast beamed across liberated zones, Irmandade leader General Ramires Kova stated: “The chains of control are breaking. This is not just a victory of soldiers, but of people—workers, farmers, children, and dreamers. The NWO built its empire on fear. We are building a future on freedom.” The Fall of Fortress Bastion The final blow came with the dramatic collapse of Fortress Bastion, a sprawling NWO military-industrial complex long thought impregnable. Irmandade saboteurs reportedly infiltrated the inner core of the fortress, disabling its reactor shields and triggering a chain reaction that forced remaining NWO forces to flee or surrender. Insiders say the fall of Bastion not only marked a tactical victory but a symbolic collapse of NWO supremacy, as it housed the propaganda center and high command for the NWO’s planetary operations. What Remains of the NWO With only scattered strongholds remaining—most notably in the eastern wastelands of Kalimord under the brutal rule of Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun—the NWO has gone on the defensive, consolidating forces and initiating desperate counterstrikes. However, morale among NWO troops appears to be at an all-time low. Reports of mutinies, mass desertions, and supply shortages are pouring in, even as remaining leaders vow to “crush the insurgency.” The Road Ahead While the Irmandade’s victory is being celebrated with fireworks in the skies over Zephra and banners of resistance unfurled across reclaimed cities, leaders have cautioned that “the fight is not yet over.” Reconstruction, justice for war crimes, and integration of former NWO territories into a peaceful confederation will be the next major challenge. As the world watches, one thing is certain: Ambroid is rising, and the era of NWO dominance may soon be nothing more than a grim memory. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 12-07-2025 23:38:24 |
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The war room lay like a tomb beneath the earth—silent but for the soft buzz of screens and the low, ever-present throb of ventilation. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, barely cutting through the stale air. It was cold, windowless, and silent, save for the mutter of coordinates and casualty reports echoing through headsets. At the head of the table stood Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun, flanked by his most ruthless commanders—General Colhelm, known for his brutal counterinsurgency tactics in the Riverlands, and General “Deathstrike”, a man more myth than soldier, who rarely spoke but whose presence drew silence like gravity. Across from them, beamed in through secure line-of-sight video, was President Oscar “The Owl”, leader of the New World Order’s newest member state—stoic, bespectacled, with eyes like glass marbles that never blinked enough. Around him, in smaller feeds, appeared the grim faces of the NWO coalition: military advisors from Vasnia, logistics planners from the Vessen States, and black-suited intelligence heads from the Silent Compact. Ho Chi Sun didn’t sit. He rarely did in this room. “The Irmandade now controls the equatorial belt and a third of the eastern provinces. Our outposts in Ankar Vale and Devrin Ridge fell in under 48 hours. This is not a rebellion,” he said coldly. “It’s an organized military campaign. And we’ve treated it like a protest for too long.” Oscar’s voice crackled through the monitor. “We agree. The Irmandade has shifted from guerrilla harassment to full territorial annexation. It’s time we responded with proportional force.” General Colhelm leaned forward, jabbing a finger at the glowing map. “We’ve identified three major staging zones. If we hit them within seventy-two hours, we can cripple their momentum. But it won’t be clean. They’ve embedded themselves among civilian populations.” “That’s a problem for politicians,” muttered General Deathstrike, finally speaking, his voice low and hoarse. “Not soldiers.” Ho Chi Sun nodded once. “We enact Protocol Iron Veil. Martial law over the central corridor. All convoys moving south are to be scanned, detained, or destroyed. We shut down water lines and power grids in Irmandade-controlled zones.” A NWO advisor interjected, voice tense. “You’ll push the civilian population into the arms of the Irmandade.” “They’re already there,” Ho Chi Sun replied, turning slowly to face the screen. “We don’t need their hearts. We need their silence.” Oscar the Owl adjusted his glasses. “And what of the international press?” Deathstrike sneered. “We control the satellites. The world will see what we want it to see.” There was a long pause. Ho Chi Sun folded his hands behind his back. “This is a global war now. Not a border dispute. We win Ambroid, or the Irmandade takes it—winner take all. Let me be clear: I will not let this coalition fail because of hesitation.” The faces nodded slowly, one speaking. “Then we authorize full strategic cooperation. You’ll have drone support, cyber teams, and special units. Operation Ashlock begins at dawn, across all fronts.” Colhelm smiled grimly. “Good. I’ve waited a long time to burn the jungle out of them.” Screens dimmed. Orders were transmitted. Coordinates locked. Below them, the servers began spinning new fire missions, and above them, in the ashen gray of pre-dawn, the first wave of NWO bombers took flight. In the dark, far from any light of conscience, war moved forward. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 13-07-2025 03:10:32 |
| "Wings of the Wasted"
The sky over Kalimord was ash-gray, stained with the smog of war factories and the smoke of old fires never put out. Beneath it, at Hangar 47 on the outskirts of Sector A-9, Lieutenant Kray Voss rubbed the back of his neck and blinked hard. His pupils were pinpricks. His teeth chattered though the air was warm. Another dose of "Sunfire" meth had been forced down his throat only twenty minutes ago by the Medtechs in white coats. He couldn't remember the last time he slept. Or ate. But his F-22—the Red Tyrant—gleamed in the amber haze, waiting for him like a steel god. A symbol of Supreme Leader Ho Chi Sun's iron will. A death machine born of starvation, obedience, and chemical fire. "Voss," barked a gravel-voiced officer through a radio clipped to his vest, "targets are moving through the Iron Ravines. Irmandade columns. This is a 'scorch-and-burn' mission. No survivors." He nodded automatically. Every part of him trembled—not with fear, but with urgency. He needed to fly. He needed to kill. The slogans burned into his brain echoed like a hymn: "Glory through Obedience. Purpose through Fire. Victory through Annihilation." Kray barely remembered his mother. Just the smell of bread, maybe. Something soft. But that softness had been beaten out of him in the camps. Now, all that remained was the mission and the meth. He touched the cockpit canopy with a reverence that bordered on holy, then climbed in. The inside of the F-22 was tight, humming with malicious energy. His hands moved with perfect memory—switches, gauges, flaps. They had taught him well. Too well. As the engines roared to life, he looked across the tarmac and saw another pilot vomiting behind a storage crate. Another one scratching his face until blood ran. They were all coming apart at the seams. But the Supreme Leader didn’t need soldiers to live—only to launch. "Command, this is Tyrant One. Ready for launch." "Launch authorized. Give them Ho Chi Sun’s justice." The jet screamed down the runway and lifted into the poisoned sky. Inside the cockpit, Voss grinned a cracked, meth-stained smile as he broke through the smog. Somewhere out there, Irmandade rebels were huddling in canyons, praying for liberation. But Kray Voss, high, hungry, and hollowed out by a nation gone mad, was bringing them hell. |
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