A day ago, far away from the new front line in the midst of being established, a hunt that had been going on for months was continuing.
Running, almost flying over different zones, whether plains, hills, mountains, forest, a group of gray-skinned tall individuals with exhaustion evident on their faces slowed to a stop. Instinctively, the one with a weak looking companion with a faint, almost indiscernible breath on his back was put in the middle, guarded by the six others.
What had started as a group of more than a dozen of them was reduced to just the few of them. The casualties might seem small, not enough to be alarming, but seeing the red third eyes of more than half of the individuals, and even then with them deferring to the ones who did not have it, a simple conclusion could be reached. One that was logical, considering the level of aliens the first hunting team to make contact died to.
