It's an arduous task to reach the next settlement they could be friendly just as easily as they could be Nazis. With my ammunition low and only a miniscule amount of military grade left, I'm going to have to make the few rounds I have remaining last. I strain to see in the nuclear winter either friend or foe, though preferably not the latter. I examine the desolate and scattered remnants of Moscow, now lovingly named Dead City. As I replace my air filter - a necessity above ground - I squint through the frost crystallising on my gas mask to survey the area ahead.
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