Chapter 123:
The low rumble of the truck’s engine cut off, leaving only the soft ticking of cooling metal.
The team had been out here for days—too long. Supplies were running low, and patience was even lower. The further they strayed from the base, the more the mist felt wrong.
Winter rubbed a hand down his face, trying to push down the exhaustion. "Alright," he muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let’s see what fresh nightmare we’ve wandered into this time."
"Bet it’s worse than the last one," Callum murmured, reaching for his rifle.
"How comforting," Rhys snorted, double-checking his sidearm. He stepped out first, boots crunching against cracked pavement. The others followed suit.
Around them, the abandoned perimeter stretched in eerie silence—decaying buildings loomed, their empty windows dark like watchful eyes. The mist was thinner here, but it still clung to the ground in wispy tendrils, as if reluctant to leave.
"It’s been days," Rhys muttered, hopping out and adjusting his rifle strap. "Feels like we’ve gone too deep."
Winter didn’t argue. They’d pushed further than intended, searching for any trace of Squad 6, but what they had found so far was... underwhelming.
They moved cautiously toward the latest signal ping—inside the remains of what had once been a service station. The shattered glass doors gaped open, revealing the dark interior.
And inside, they found them.
Three men. Still alive.