Jack looked around the quiet, war torn landscape of what used to be considered New York. The new race of enemies, called Advent, had devastated Jack's forces. Had his leader, Delshyk Tion been here, they would've never lost NY. But as it stood now, Delshyk was dead, along with Amaya. That's what he had heard anyway, but other stories, and sightings of those two soldiers still fighting gave him hope. For now though, the commander had to figure out a way to end the war quickly. His eyes scanned across the map, looking for some kind of weakness. He shook his head, rubbing the newly acquired scar across his cheek that somewhat resembled the one on Delshyk's arm. The poor man had gotten no sleep for the past 3 days, and he couldn't focus. "Man, what the hell am I gonna do?"