Location: Barbarus, Northern Mountains, New Frontline Outpost.
Now.
The thick mist, accompanied by the faint light of dawn, slowly spread over the murky soil of Barbarus. From a distance, the intermittent cries of the murky hawks echoed.
Outside the small outpost, the toxic gas was noticeably denser than inside. The pale yellow mist churned ceaselessly. Any creature that entered would disturb the fog, causing waves to ripple.
Herella stood at the entrance of the outpost, a lasgun in hand, another slung over her shoulder, and a dagger tied to her waist. Her pouch bulged with ammunition. She wore a full-face rebreather mask, her brown eyes peering through its lenses at her two comrades.
Kuzar and Tiller were checking their gear. Like Herella, they wore full-face rebreathers and were fully armed, each wielding a power scythe and two daggers at their waists.
"We're ready. Time to move out."
Sister Lys, who had come to see them off, nodded. A deep green bandana soaked in medicinal herbs was tied around her forehead.
"Listen closely. Your mission is to deliver this map, which marks enemy ambush and supply points, to the frontline command post."
"To avoid alerting the enemy, we can't deploy a large force to transport this document. Our outpost is at the very edge where human territory meets the xenos'. A large force would be easily spotted and ambushed."
"For safety, we're dispatching three teams from different outposts at different times to deliver the document."
"You are the third team."
"But that doesn't mean you can be complacent. The lord we face now is more formidable and cunning than any we've encountered before."
"Ensure the document's delivery! Understood?!"
"Understood!"
The trio saluted in unison. Sister Lys stepped back, giving them one last look.
"Good. You are among our outpost's finest close-combat warriors and marksmen. I trust you'll complete this mission."
Sister Lys saluted the three warriors. The gates, bound with sturdy logs, slowly opened.
And so, they embarked.
The monotonous landscape passed by, the murky yellow fog rolling endlessly. Apart from the scythe markers left by the Death Guard, there were no landmarks to guide their way.
They marched quickly. Kuzar led the way, Herella in the middle, and Tiller watched their rear. The intel was safely tucked in Herella's embrace.
But then, disaster rained from the sky.
A sharp whistling sound pierced the air, followed by a roaring crimson fireball tearing through the yellow mist!
It was an incendiary shell!
"Evade!!!"
The trio sprinted, trying to escape the blast radius—
But after that shell—
—Hundreds more roared to life—
Explosions erupted, obliterating everything.
Herella awoke to a ringing in her ears.
She staggered to her feet, pushing off the charred corpses of Kuzar and Tiller. They had shielded her, knowing she carried the intel.
Their pact was clear: if one carried the intel, the others would sacrifice themselves to protect that person.
The ringing persisted. There was no time for grief. Exposed, Herella had to move. Her rebreather was shattered. The toxic mist seeped in. Hastily, she wrapped a bandage around her face, slowing the gas's ingress.
Pain shot up her left shin. A white bone jutted out, piercing her flesh. Blood flowed freely.
Biting back the pain, Herella quickly applied a tourniquet. Using her dagger, she snapped off a part of a scythe's shaft and used it as a splint for her broken leg.
The ringing subsided slightly. Her lungs burned, and the pain from her leg threatened to make her pass out.
She couldn't falter. The intel had to be delivered!
She discarded her broken lasgun, loaded the other, and limped forward.
"I'm sorry, comrades. I'll deliver this intel. Your sacrifices won't be in vain."
Drops of blood marked her path. Dizziness overcame her, but she had experienced it before and pressed on.
Distant barks echoed through the mist.
Poxhounds?!
Spotting a tall, dead tree ahead, Herella climbed to its top without hesitation.
She aimed her lasgun into the distance.
Judging by the barks, there were six or seven poxhounds.
She steadied her breath, slowing the toxins' effect—
As the first shadow emerged from the fog—
"Bang!"
"Bang! Bang!"
Her shots found their mark. The first hound fell, and two more followed.
She had caught them off guard. They had expected a melee fighter, not a marksman.
Four remained. They zigzagged, making it harder to hit them.
She prayed to Hades, the god of her people, for protection.
She wanted to live, to deliver the intel, to see Hades once more, to witness peace.
She prayed for the people of Barbarus.