Among the refugees, there was a brief moment of silence.
An old man with white hair trembled as he raised his hand to catch the food falling from the sky.
Dazed, he looked at his palm and then hesitantly put the piece of meat into his mouth.
Suddenly, he lifted his head sharply.
Behind him, those massive steel monsters stood silently in the rain, their barrels still smoking, yet no ammunition fell among the crowd.
Looking ahead, the Battle Commander who had been brandishing a long sword and forcing them to retreat now lay in the mud, leaving only a mutilated corpse.
The old man's breathing suddenly became rapid.
A simple and direct thought reassembled in his sluggish mind.
The monsters behind them were not killing them.
They only killed those who wouldn't let them eat.
Silence lasted only a moment.
The next moment, it was unclear who first croaked out:
"That's our food!"
"Grab it!!!"
The instant the cry erupted, reason was completely torn apart.
