The sudden blare of alarms and the echoing robotic voice propelled Francus, Grigor, and Rael into immediate action. They swiftly exited the pub, their relaxed demeanor replaced by the intense focus of seasoned commanders. The streets outside were in chaos, with soldiers and mercenaries scrambling to their positions as the city transformed into a buzzing warzone.
Francus quickly took charge, his voice authoritative as he barked orders. "Form up! Defensive positions! We need to hold the line!" His gaze was fixed on the sky, where the demonic ships loomed like a dark omen.
Grigor, alongside him, was coordinating the troops through his communicator. "Echo squad, take flank positions! Delta team, man the anti-aircraft turrets!" His voice was calm but firm, a stark contrast to the panic around them.
Rael, his eyes scanning the skies, readied his weapon. "We've trained for this, now's the time to show what we're made of!"