Morning light seeped through the windows of the old building that had become their temporary shelter. Dust floated in the air, dancing in the faint sunlight, yet not a single smile could be found among those who woke up that morning.
Altair sat on the second floor, leaning against a cracked wall, his eyes staring at the small screen in his hand. The communicator buzzed constantly, displaying data from command headquarters. Sofia approached, offering a cup of hot water. Her face was weary, but still calm.
"You didn't sleep well, did you?" Sofia asked softly.
Altair nodded slowly, then shook his head. "It's not about sleep. I just received a report from Reinhart."
Sofia sat beside him, waiting for an explanation.
"It's not just us. Almost all groups assigned to killing zombie rank 3… failed. Some even vanished entirely. Not a single survivor."
Sofia's eyes widened. "What do you mean 'vanished entirely'?"
Altair turned the screen toward her, showing the names of units now marked as eliminated. No green signals or active coordinates. Just red… and silence.
"The Northeast Group lost contact two days ago. The last recording shows a battle with a large creature—possibly not zombie rank 3 maybe mutant animal. Then the Southern Group 1 was destroyed last night. Even the Steel Horse Unit… disappeared without a trace. No signal, bodies and tracks."
Sofia fell silent. Her whole body felt colder than usual.
"Reinhart's realized the situation is deteriorating," Altair continued, his voice low. "He's ordered reserve forces to be sent to the remaining active groups, including us."
Sofia nodded, slightly relieved. But somehow… the anxiety in her chest wouldn't fade.
The day passed, step by step. Outside the building, the remnants of the military and combined teams began maintaining their equipment and rehearsing simple formations. No one relaxed. There was no time for true rest. Everyone was waiting for help.
But that help never came.
By noon, unease began to spread. Vivi paced back and forth, while Viktor and Rina tried to calm the increasingly distrustful soldiers. Dito even muttered, "What if they've forgotten we're here?"
Altair remained silent, eyes sharp as he watched the horizon from the upper window.
Sofia joined him, standing beside him. "You feel it too, don't you?"
"…It's been more than six hours since the assistance report was sent," Altair muttered. "Other groups have reported their reinforcements. But us…"
Before he could finish, his communicator buzzed again. Altair immediately pressed it.
"This is Altair."
"Captain," came a tense voice from central communications. "We just received the final report from the reinforcement unit sent to your coordinates."
Sofia snapped to attention. Everyone on the second floor stopped what they were doing and gathered around.
"What happened?" Altair asked sharply.
"That unit… was destroyed. No survivors. We received a distress signal that only lasted sixteen seconds before all contact was lost. We managed to recover part of the footage from their surveillance drone. Transmitting now."
Altair's screen lit up, displaying a shaky black-and-white recording.
A view of an open forest road. Military vehicles moving slowly, weapons ready. Then, from behind the trees…
A large shadow darted by with impossible speed.
Then… chaos.
The drone spun in the air, capturing the horrifying figure. Huge body, bulging muscles, glowing red eyes—no doubt about it.
Tyrant.
He attacked silently. No screams and no emotion. One by one, vehicles were crushed in an instant, thrown, destroyed, impaled by hard bones protruding from his body. Blood stained the forest road like spilled red paint.
The footage ended as Tyrant stared directly at the drone… and threw something.
The image cut off.
Sofia clutched her chest. Altair clenched his fists.
"He did it on purpose," he growled. "Tyrant deliberately attacked the reinforcements coming… only to us. He let the other groups get their aid, but… our group… he surrounded us quietly. Left us alone. Like… like we're his game's target."
Everyone went quiet at those words.
Finally, Rina whispered, "Why… us? What does he want?"
"I don't know," Sofia murmured. "But one thing is certain… he doesn't want us getting help. He wants to isolate us."
"To provoke us… or make us panic," Altair added. "He wants us to break… or maybe he wants us to die slowly. With no way out. No backup."
The atmosphere in the building turned grim. Those who still had hope now just gripped their weapons tighter. Whatever hope remained for reinforcements—vanished along with that footage.
"In that case… we can't wait anymore," Sofia stood tall. Her face now filled with resolve. "We have to hold out on our own. Like before."
Altair looked at her, then nodded. "We fortify the defenses. We prepare escape routes. And most importantly… we watch the skies and the ground. Tyrant won't give us a second chance."
"If he wants to play," Sofia continued, her voice calm but sharp, "then we'll be players he can't take down easily."
Outside, the afternoon wind began to blow. Mist slowly descended from the gray sky. But inside that old building, a flame of spirit reignited—small, fragile, but unyielding.
Because they knew… something was watching them.