The White Desert, planet X037.54501.
The Bleeding Fist.
Something happened in the desert. Communication was lost over three years ago. The human military command structure is in shambles. Something is destroying everything in its path, military and civilian alike. Only a few people still survive. The attack tank unit Bleeding Fist, trapped on a planet far from home, no help is coming for them and no way out.
The Mongruxx, a band of mercenaries.
Lost in time and space, with their stasis unit buried in the wreckage of a Machina transport starship. Destroyed over a billion and a half standard years ago. The wreckage continued on at hyper relativistic speeds until eventually it was drawn down a gravity well and decelerated. Ending up here in this place, the white desert.
Together, they might just make it out of this alive.
Sam, the commander of the Bleeding Fist, a group of three attack tanks.
The tanker crews, a hard-bitten lot that just wants to make it through this hell hole with their naughty bits intact.
“The end is Nye” – known by the crew as the “Nye”
“Little disappointments” – known as the “Little”
“Up the river Styx” – known as the “Styx”
Joined by a civilian group of engineers, freight drivers, laborers, and other layabouts and ne’er do wells just trying to make through another day.
Golgoth, the leader of the Mongruxx. With Atilius at his side, Seneca the Ol’ bastard with his drinking skin and the rest of the Wolf Pac fighters, they will keep their promises until that final day.
Circles within circles.
Schemes and plans by the Synthocts that attempt to control and manipulate them all. The brutish Ogin lost in their animalistic fury and need to control. The cultists, mad in the worship of the old gods. And the gods themselves, watching all of this and none of it across the edges of forever.
So tighten up your body armor, make sure you keep a round in the chamber and have a good supply of cigars on hand, my friend, for it is a long walk following the path of the wolf.