With unstoppable momentum, Xiao Yi lunged at the controller with the force of a thunderbolt. In that moment, he seemed to have transformed into a vengeful god, his weapon a scepter of judgment. His movements were swift and decisive, without a trace of hesitation or hesitation. The air ripped apart by the powerful impact, emitting a sharp whistling sound. The weapon, ignited with flames and lightning, was like a ray of light piercing the darkness. Carrying all of Xiao Yi's strength and hope, it pierced the controller's heart, vowing to deliver a fatal blow.
The operator's eyes filled with terror at Xiao Yi's ferocious attack. He desperately tried to dodge the fatal blow. His body twisted and twisted, desperately trying to avoid Xiao Yi's lethal weapon. However, Xiao Yi's speed was too great, like lightning across the night sky, leaving him no time to react. Just when the operator thought he had escaped, Xiao Yi's weapon mercilessly slashed across his shoulder. In an instant, a deep wound appeared on the operator's shoulder, and black blood gushed out like a flood. The black blood was thick and evil, emitting a sickening smell. The operator screamed in pain, his voice shrill and desperate. He pressed his hand against the wound, but the black blood continued to flow from between his fingers, dripping onto the ground, instantly corroding small holes in the ground. On the dark battlefield, the dawn of victory suddenly appeared, like the bright sunlight breaking through the dark clouds at dawn. Without a leader, the zombie horde instantly fell apart, plunging into endless chaos. Their once ferocious faces were now shrouded in confusion and panic, their movements becoming disorganized, their previous coordination and aggressiveness lost. Xiao Yi keenly grasped this fleeting opportunity, his resolute eyes blazing with a fierce fighting spirit. He raised his arms and shouted, leading the troops in a full-scale counterattack. The warriors' shouts resounded through the air, weapons in hand, charging like valiant lions into the chaotic horde of zombies. Each attack was punctuated by boundless power and determination, each roar venting long-suppressed anger and courage. The dawn of victory grew brighter, illuminating the sweat-stained yet unwavering faces of each warrior. They firmly believed that this light would dispel the darkness, bringing ultimate victory and hope. Illuminated by this dawning light, the zombies retreated step by step, but the warriors' steps grew more resolute, forging ahead courageously, charging towards a brighter future.
During those long, brutal hours of intense fighting, time seemed stretched out, every minute and every second weighing like a heavy lead weight, fraught with the weight of life and death. The battlefield was thick with smoke, the acrid smell of gunpowder and the stench of blood mingling, suffocating. The roar of gunfire and the cries of killing echoed incessantly, a deafening thud that seemed to shake the soul from the body. Every minute, bullets whizzed through the air like a rain of drops, ripping the air and bringing the threat of death. The soldiers' nerves were strained to the bone, fearing the merciless piercing of the cold bullets as they darted through the hail of bullets, their eyes unwavering, only a steely determination and a desperate desire to survive. At any second, a shell could explode beside them, sending a cloud of dust and dirt billowing. Blazing shrapnel flew everywhere, ruthlessly slicing through everything. Men collapsed instantly, their lives extinguished in a split second. Their comrades beside them could only tearfully continue fighting bravely, for to stop would mean further sacrifice. Over the interminable hours, exhaustion, like a demon, gnawed at the soldiers' bodies and minds. Sweat soaked their clothes, yet they had no time to wipe; the pain from their wounds raged, yet they gritted their teeth and persevered. Their strength gradually eroded, but their faith grew stronger, for they knew behind them were their homes, their loved ones, and the countless people who awaited peace. During these hours of fierce fighting, every minute and every second was a test of courage and will to the limit. Yet, with their blood and lives, these soldiers composed an unyielding war song, forging ahead courageously towards the dawn of victory.
On this life-or-death battlefield, the psychics unleashed their unique and powerful abilities, creating a breathtaking spectacle. Some psychics' hands ignited with blazing flames, the flames like raging dragons, sweeping towards the zombie hordes. Wherever they passed, the zombies were instantly ignited, transforming into flaming balls, writhing in agony. Some psychics could control the wind, creating massive tornadoes that swept up swarms of zombies and hurled them far away, shattering them to pieces. Other psychics possessed the power of invisibility, slipping and sliding silently through the zombie hordes, delivering devastating blows. However, ordinary people remained undaunted, wielding crude weapons in a desperate struggle against the zombies. A frail young man, gripping a rusty long sword with a determined gaze, charged at the oncoming zombies, slashing with all his might, even when his arms were scratched by the zombies, refusing to give up. Elderly men, wielding clubs, their trembling yet powerful hands lashed out at the approaching zombies, shouting inspiring slogans. Undeterred, the women, armed with homemade spears, banded together tightly, supporting one another and resisting the zombie onslaught. Determination was written across the faces of ordinary people. They knew their homes and loved ones lay behind them, and they were willing to sacrifice anything to protect them. Despite their limited strength and crude weapons, they fought the zombies to the bitter end, forging an impenetrable defense with courage and conviction. In this brutal battle, those with special abilities and ordinary people fought side by side, composing a moving and moving song of valor.
The scene on the battlefield was a scene of apocalyptic horror and majesty. Flames shot up into the sky, seemingly igniting the entire heavens. The raging flames, like raging fire erupting from the depths of hell, devoured everything with fury. The leaping flames raged like a pack of ferocious beasts, ravaging with fangs and claws. They licked the ground mercilessly, scorching the earth wherever they touched, transforming it into a pitch-black scorched earth. Buildings collapsed in the flames with a dull roar, sending up clouds of dust and sparks. Meanwhile, thunder and lightning crisscrossed the sky. Thick bolts of lightning split the dark sky, like giant axes wielded by gods, crashing down with devastating force. The dazzling light instantly illuminated the entire battlefield, making every face crystal clear and filled with terror. The roar of thunder and lightning was deafening, threatening to rupture eardrums. Each lightning bolt struck the ground, creating a vast crater, sending earth and debris flying everywhere. Amidst the flames and lightning, ice blades danced. Countless sharp blades gleamed coldly in the air, like a winter blizzard. They darted at breakneck speed, freezing the air wherever they passed. Ice blades collided with flames, instantly transforming into clouds of white vapor; where they met lightning, they crackled and exploded. The entire battlefield was plunged into chaos and fury, as if the end of the world had arrived. Yet, amidst this endless destruction, the warriors fought bravely, unflinching.
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