Posts may be sporadic in the near future. We're not in a total state of war here in Haven just yet, but it can't be far off. The first elements of the UAS army are out there in the field, watching us and taking notes on our defenses and capabilities. Worse, the massive front posted up not all that far away is using our own discoveries against us, spraying ammonia ahead of them and driving every zombie in between toward us.
So there's that, too. All of us are being pushed pretty hard as a constant stream of undead show up in our general area. Kincaid had an idea that's helping with that, which I'll go into tomorrow if I have a chance to post. Luckily they aren't coming in huge waves and they aren't without distraction, but the grind of fighting nonstop is wearing us down. Which I suppose is sort of the point.
The main force hasn't moved, but if the scouts and forward elements we're seeing are any indication, we're going to be in trouble. I don't think Haven is going to be the sort of target that gets painted for takeover. They know we're a vital organ in the Union machine, and accurate or not people see us as a shining beacon. The prevailing opinion in Haven is negative. The UAS won't try to treat with us or conquer. They'll destroy us if they can. Just outright level the place and leave all our work as dust for future generations to tread on in ignorance.
What else is there to say? We're no longer approaching that moment of crisis. It's here. We're on the bleeding edge of what the future is going to be. There are no more variables to measure, nothing short of a miracle can change the circumstances as they are. It isn't hopeless for us by any means, but it is a daunting challenge. We'll face it as best we can, together.
Maybe we'll surprise the enemy, maybe not. I can't promise anything more than our very best. It's up to luck or fate or God to decide if that will be enough. You can almost hear the machines of war locking in place, oiled steel parts clicking and sliding as they move into position against us. We've seen enough fights to know the sweating, dead-eyed readiness in the faces of men still a hundred miles away. To know the darkness in their hearts as they ready themselves for the necessity of killing innocent people.
I know it well. All of us do. When the forerunners came into our land and started watching us, we started doing the same. All across the Union, the snowball effect of arming ourselves to kill has been building for a long time. Now is the beat just before the crescendo, when all is silent. Waiting. Quiet with the hope that everything works out without drops of blood shed.
Along with that hope comes the certain knowledge of the impossibility of that coming true.