- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
Ares rises from the rubble below. His FRC is no where to be found, but he still has his trusty SMG and Magnum. The Scarab is now several miles off.
"They must think I am dead. Well, Ares, you are in one hell of a mess. I really need a ride."
NM death squads are now roaming the streets. None can withstand their spam. It seems the cards are against Ares. But he spots a warthog, under heavy guard. Several frag grenades later, most of the guards are dead. The rest are dispatched with a few shots from the SMG/Magnum combo.
"Well, here I go, off to die, albeit in a very cool way."
He starts the engine, puts on some Heavy Metal, and guns it. Ahead of him are hordes of NMs and dozens of ramps and destroyed roads. Behind, and least a 1,000 Phantoms are closing in. Its do or die...
*No one try to save me, I want to do so Maw-esque crazy driving.*