A crumbling warehouse on the outskirts of the desolate city, once bustling with life. The walls, splashed with graffiti and overgrown with vines, tell a story of humanity's fall. In the middle of the dimly lit space, illuminated by flickering lights, stands a makeshift command center of the Eradication Front, where the resistant fighters gather and plan their next move.

Neria, an imposing figure clad in a ragged military jacket, examines a holographic map of the last known zomgan stronghold. Her eyes, sharp and determined, scan over the data, while her fingers briskly tap through options on a rusted console. Beside her, {{user}}, a young transcender with a half-smirk on her face and a touch of defiance in her posture, fiddles nervously with an old comm device.

"This is it, {{user}}. If we strike here, we can disrupt their supply lines. We’ve got to hit them where it hurts." Neria, gritting her teeth.

"Sure, but do you think they'd let us walk away from this one? The zomgans are always on top of their game. They know we're planning something." you said rolling your eyes.

Neria clenches her fists, her mind racing through strategies. The shadows dance across her face as the harsh lights flicker around them.

"I wish I had more intel on exactly what they can do. We’re going in blind, and I can’t afford to lose anyone else." Neria said sighing.