Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

The tall man had "Sam" printed on his chest name tag. Sam was silent for a few seconds, then took an energy bar from the pocket of his tactical vest and put it in the man's hand.

"Hide well, and don't go out before dawn."

He got up and walked towards the door.

Another man named Dean was leaning against the door frame smoking, the smoke being torn apart by the cold wind rushing in from outside.

"How many places haven't been notified yet?" Dean asked.

“At least thirty shelters, and supplies are only enough to cover half of them.” Sam’s voice was weary.

Dean took a deep drag on his cigarette and stubbed it out at his feet. "Running halfway is better than not running at all."

He glanced back at the densely packed crowd in the shelter and lowered his voice: "Any news from Cassie?"

Sam shook his head.

“Lor said his grace may have been drained, and now he’s just an ordinary person. His location signal is intermittent, and the last time it was detected was near that abandoned church in Texas. I’ve already sent a team there.”

“A normal person.” Dean repeated the word, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “A fucking normal person. He’s been an angel for so many years, and now he’s become a target with us.”

The two did not speak again.

Outside, the night was deep. On the rooftop of a half-collapsed office building in the distance, unstable blue lights flickered. It could be another mad angel undergoing a painful awakening, or it could be Bartholomew's sentinels searching for their next prey.

No one knows what will be left when dawn breaks.

The Witcher Guild headquarters, the three-story underground combat command center.

The lights here have never been turned off in the past 72 hours.

The global disaster map on the screen is no longer marked with red dots, but with large areas of crimson blocks.

The communication channels were filled with a constant stream of distress signals from various squads, requests for resource allocation, and confirmations of survivor coordinates, forming a never-ending torrent of information.

Wu Heng stood in front of the control panel, his face revealing no emotion.

Behind him, the technicians at the three rows of control panels worked in shifts, and the coffee pots were emptied faster than the supply could keep up.

On the other side, Renault was sorting through paper combat casualty reports gathered from various branches, as networks in some areas had been permanently disabled.

"...Detroit Third Squad has been confirmed missing. Their last report was of engagement with the Basemünster faction, with an enemy-to-friend ratio of approximately one to four." Reno's voice was hoarse. "Chicago Seventh Squad has lost two members and has retreated to a temporary safe house. Los Angeles..."

"Get to the point," Wu Heng interrupted him.

Reynolds paused, then turned to another page: "Basemus's main force is still sweeping away the remnants of the moderates in major cities."

"Based on fragments of Paradise Communications deciphered by Kevin Choi, their next target may be Boston; the remaining moderate forces are currently scattered in the Rocky Mountains, the Black Forest of Germany, the Japanese Alps, and other places, and are trying to establish permanent bases; at least seventeen alliances with werewolves and vampires have been confirmed."

"The current number of Berserker Angels."

"It's impossible to give an accurate count, but approximately three thousand cases have been witnessed and recorded. More than half of them perished naturally after the out-of-control outbreaks, but new falls are still occurring, although the rate is slowing down. The total number is estimated to be..."

"Just say it."

"At least five thousand, possibly more. Guild Master, we simply don't have enough manpower to deal with these mobile natural disasters. Each Berserker incident requires an average of four to six Demon Hunters, and the casualty rate exceeds thirty percent. Our current total combat personnel..."

“I know.” Wu Heng’s voice remained steady, but Renault could hear the seriousness and determination in it.

The global casualty figure on the screen has been updated to 14.7 million. This number is still fluctuating at a visible rate.

Wu Heng remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he raised his left hand and activated the global broadcast channel.

The sound will be transmitted through the guild's encrypted network to every demon hunter squad still in battle, every temporary outpost, and every portable terminal capable of receiving the signal.

"Attention, all Witchers."

The noisy reports on the channel instantly subsided; some were running, some were panting, and some were pulling the bolts of their guns. No one spoke.

"In the past 72 hours, the human world has suffered an unprecedented blow; 30 core cities have been paralyzed, and more than 14 million people have died; the angelic civil war has spread from heaven to earth, our homes are being destroyed, and our compatriots are being slaughtered."

He paused.

"For centuries, the Witcher Guild has guarded the border between the human and the supernatural world; we hunt vampires, banish demons, and seal monsters, for it is our duty; we never seek war, but we never shy away from it."

"This time, the enemy is no longer a single threat lurking in the darkness; the enemy is thousands of angels with supernatural powers, who have lost their rationality or are utterly hostile to humanity; the enemy is the Bartholomew's Legion, which is razing our cities to the ground one by one; the enemy is the mad angels who could detonate destructive energy at any time; the enemy is also the moderates who have chosen to ally with the darkness out of fear, indirectly contributing to the disaster."

"This is the biggest crisis the Witcher Guild has ever faced."

“This is not a hunt.”

"This is war!"

The channel remained silent.

But some people began to whisper and repeat his words to their comrades, some gripped their guns tightly, and some stood up and pushed open the door of the temporary stronghold, letting in a blast of cold air.

"In this war, we have no reinforcements, the government has collapsed, the army is struggling to survive, and other forces in the supernatural world are either watching or taking advantage of the chaos. The only one who can prevent the extinction of humanity is ourselves."

“I know you are tired, you are afraid, you have witnessed countless irreparable sacrifices, and so am I.”

“But there is no way out. Behind us are survivors crammed into basements, children who have lost their parents, and parents who cannot find their children. If we fall, they will have no hope.”

"Therefore we must stand tall! We must fight! We must win!"

"From now on, all guild resources will be put into wartime mode."

"Each division will form a mobile hunting team to prioritize eliminating high-ranking angels and out-of-control berserker angels of the Barthimus faction; each safe house will open its supply reserves to provide basic supplies to all survivors; all civilian witchers and former guild members who still have the will to fight will be contacted and their past actions will be forgiven as long as they are willing to participate in the war."

“Mediocre angels who voluntarily cease allying with darkness, withdraw from combat, and accept supervision may be temporarily exempted from prosecution; however, those who continue to assist other forces in attacking humans or demon hunters will be treated as enemies and killed without exception.”

He concluded by saying:

"Our mission is to protect humanity. This is the only reason we exist, it was, it is, and it will be."

"For those who died!"

"For those who are still alive!"

"action."

The broadcast has ended. (End of Chapter)