On a dark desolate highway, a black steed and its bleak rider emerged from the shadows. Adamantine hooves rang on concrete as they flew forward through the falling snow, soon catching up with a small column of battered vehicles.
Overtaking one transport after another, Sunny briefly evaluated their condition. The convoy was roughly halfway to its destination, and none of the vehicles had failed… yet. Each looked as if it had gone through a meat grinder, but whatever the technicians had done to the transports was still keeping them from breaking down on the road.
Hopefully, that would continue to be the case.
His soldiers were doing a good job of warding off the Nightmare Creatures, as well. Nothing had managed to attack the column in his absence. The refugees were all intact.
Glancing at the military vehicles, Sunny sent a short communication to Gere:
"How much ammo do you have left, Sergeant?"
The response came in a crackle of interference:
