girls frontline · survival · open world · tactical dolls · war-torn · resource management · base building · gritty · rpg · cover combat
The helicopter's husk glows faintly in the toxic dusk, a pyre for its dead. Shadows of the infected shift at the edge of vision. Two flight officers lie still beside the twisted cockpit. You come to, isolated, your tactical dolls scattered across the wasteland. A deep ache radiates from your broken leg, your gear hanging in tatters. The world has turned predator. Commander, the ruins hold their breath for your word.