The town of Crestfall, fortified by tall walls encircling its perimeter, was secured with two opposing gates, each heavily guarded by an M1A2 Abrams tank. Supplies regularly arrived via M1083 cargo trucks, ensuring the town's needs were met despite the heightened security measures.
Upon arrival, each truck was halted at the gates, where soldiers meticulously sprayed them down with disinfectant before allowing them entry. This protocol aimed to prevent any possible contamination, especially in light of the infection risk spreading from Fort Sentinel.
Inside the town of Crestfall, the atmosphere hung thick with a mix of relief and underlying apprehension. While townsfolk continued their daily routines, gathering in small groups and bustling outside their homes, a quiet tension permeated their actions. Many cast quick, cautious glances toward the soldiers stationed atop the walls, vigilant sentinels scanning the horizon.
Others watched the patrols moving purposefully through each district, a reminder of the looming threat outside. The soldiers' presence brought a measure of comfort, yet the ever-present risk left everyone on edge, making each interaction tinged with a silent, shared worry.
The convoy of M1083 trucks rolled into the large supply depot, coming to a quick, coordinated stop. The moment the engines quieted, soldiers sprang into action, opening the back of each truck and efficiently unloading the crates and barrels of supplies. Stacks of essentials—food, medical supplies, and other necessities—were quickly lined up inside the building, organized for easy access. The soldiers worked with a sense of urgency, knowing that these supplies were critical for the town's resilience, especially now with the heightened alert.
...
In response to the quarantine unfolding at Fort Sentinel, Forward Observation Base Crestfall, under the leadership of Lieutenant Parker, immediately went on high alert.
News of the infection put every soldier on edge, especially following the recent sighting of the horde in the area. The atmosphere at Crestfall was tense, with each member vigilant and wary, fully aware of the potential for an outbreak to spread their way.
Command had reassured the base that drones would be dedicated to 24/7 surveillance, keeping a close eye on any approaching threats.
Despite the added surveillance, Lieutenant Parker couldn't shake an underlying worry. Only a kilometer from Crestfall lay a shallow, hastily dug mass grave—a reminder of past battles, filled with the bodies of monsters and humans from the first horde attack and from skirmishes with the Eldorian Kingdom.
He had personally been briefed with the cleanup. But now, with the knowledge of this infection, the grave's proximity gnawed at him. If the infection could spread to the dead… or worse, if something in that pit reanimated—then Crestfall's defenses would face their greatest test yet.
Parker clenched his jaw at Command's decision to deny his request for scouts. He understood their reasoning—the risk of contamination was too high—but the uncertainty ate at him. That grave was a looming threat, and every passing hour without eyes on it left him uneasy. He knew the infection didn't discriminate; it spread relentlessly, and the pit was close enough that any outbreak would put Crestfall in immediate danger.
Staring out at the fortified walls, Parker resolved to tighten security around the perimeter and double the patrols along the eastern stretch closest to the grave. Until they could assess the situation safely, vigilance would be their only defense.
Parker's mind snapped to attention at the sharp voice crackling over his radio, "Contact west!" Instincts kicking in, he grabbed his binoculars and jogged quickly toward the western wall. Soldiers were already lined up, rifles raised and tense as they scanned the horizon.
Through his binoculars, Parker discerned movement in the forest—a group shuffling slowly toward the fort. At first glance, they seemed human, but their erratic, disjointed movements sent a chill down his spine. Parker's gut tightened with unease, a sense of foreboding settling over him.
The air was thick with tension; soldiers around him gripped their weapons tightly, fingers hovering near triggers, ready to respond at a moment's notice. Each soldier exchanged anxious glances, the weight of uncertainty pressing heavily on them all as they prepared for whatever might emerge from the trees.
The wait was not long as silhouettes emerged from the forest, revealing a group of civilians—at least 100 of them. Parker's heart raced as he noted that about 30 individuals were being carried on makeshift stretchers, their injuries evident even from a distance.
Parker immediately grabbed a megaphone, his voice booming across the clearing. "Who are you? Where are you from?" His words echoed through the trees, tension crackling in the air as the soldiers held their breath, anxiously awaiting a response.
The crowd did not respond; instead, they broke into a run toward the base. Panic surged through Parker as he quickly shouted, "Stop! Stay back!" But his words fell on deaf ears.
Realizing the potential threat, he raised his weapon and fired warning shots into the air. The crack of gunfire shattered the tense atmosphere, causing the group to halt in their tracks. Confusion and fear flickered across their faces as they looked back at the fort, uncertain of their next move.
Parker narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before him. He shouted again, "Identify yourselves! Who are you and where are you from?"
This time, a man from the front of the group fell to his knees, desperation etched on his face. "Please, we need help!" he cried out, his voice trembling. "We're merchants! We went to a town far west, and it was overrun by monsters. We had to flee for our lives! Some of our group stayed behind to hold them off while we carried the injured. We've lost so much already!"
Parker's heart sank at the man's words, and he gestured for the soldiers to lower their weapons slightly, signaling a cautious approach. "How many of you are there?" he asked, assessing the situation.
The man looked around at the weary faces of his companions. "There are about a hundred of us."
Parker weighed his options carefully. The civilians appeared desperate and frightened, but the threat of infection loomed heavily in his mind. He turned to his soldiers. "Surround them with the JLTVs. Keep a safe distance but be ready to react if necessary."
As the soldiers swiftly moved into position, Parker activated his radio, contacting command for guidance. "This is Lieutenant Parker at Forward Observation Base Crestfall. We have a large group of civilians approaching from the west, approximately one hundred strong. They claim to be merchants fleeing a monster attack. Requesting immediate instructions on how to proceed. Over."
He waited anxiously for a response, glancing back at the civilians. Many were injured, and the fear in their eyes was palpable. While he wanted to extend compassion and offer assistance, the potential risk of infection weighed heavily on his conscience.
"Lieutenant," came the voice from command, crackling over the radio. "Maintain a safe perimeter. Hold them im the area. I'm sending specialist for the health check. We can't risk an outbreak. Do you copy?"
"Copy that," Parker replied, his heart heavy with the responsibility of his decision. He glanced at the civilians once more, his mind racing with the moral implications of what lay ahead.
...
The thudding of helicopter rotors filled the air as two UH-60M Blackhawks descended, their occupants dressed in full HAZMAT suits. Shortly behind, a CH-53K King Stallion followed, lowering a large metal container into a cleared area within sight of the gathered civilians and soldiers. The container bore markings of the research division—a mobile quarantine and research facility.
Parker exhaled in relief as the HAZMAT team disembarked, immediately setting up containment protocols. One of the team leaders approached Parker, giving a quick salute before speaking through his muffled mask.
"We'll be assessing the civilians and conducting preliminary tests for any signs of infection," he said. "The facility should be operational within minutes."
Parker nodded, signaling to his soldiers to stay vigilant. With the civilians now under the care of the HAZMAT team, he took a few steps back, watching as the scientists and medics prepared to examine the group. The situation was tense, and everyone understood the stakes—one wrong move could mean an outbreak, and Parker intended to prevent that at all costs.
The HAZMAT team moved with methodical precision, directing the civilians to line up near the mobile facility. Soldiers in full protective suits held medical scanners, while others carried sterilized containers filled with medical supplies. Two soldiers approached each stretcher, speaking gently but firmly to reassure the injured and guide them into the quarantine zone.
One by one, the civilians stepped forward. The team performed rapid but thorough health checks, using portable biometric scanners to examine each individual's vital signs, eye movements, and skin temperature. The slightest sign of infection—a dark vein, unusual swelling, or an elevated temperature—meant immediate quarantine. Medics scanned each wound carefully, inspecting for any blackened veins or discolored skin that might indicate infection.
As the injured were processed, those showing suspicious symptoms were carefully ushered into the metal quarantine chamber. A few civilians tried to resist, fear and uncertainty clouding their expressions. HAZMAT soldiers maintained a calm but firm demeanor, reassuring them that the quarantine was for their safety and necessary to protect everyone else.
The scene was tense. Civilians clutched each other, some holding children close as they waited their turn. Behind them, Parker observed with an unreadable expression, grateful for the HAZMAT team's steady hands and protocol. As they worked, the soldiers continued to scan the perimeter, keeping their weapons ready, eyes trained for any unexpected movement in the shadows beyond.
...
Back at Fort Sentinel, John watched the live feed from an MQ-1C Gray Eagle drone circling high above Forward Observation Base Crestfall. The thermal images on the screen showed the movement below—the HAZMAT teams conducting health checks, the injured civilians lined up in the quarantine zone, and soldiers maintaining a tense perimeter around the area.
A knot of worry tightened in John's chest. The situation was escalating beyond his expectations. It wasn't just the monsters they had to guard against now, but the horrifying reality of infected humans, twisted by the same malevolent pathogen discovered from Terragnath's remains. With the vast, uncharted land around them, he couldn't be sure how far this infection had spread—or if isolated outbreaks had already begun in other remote towns or settlements, just as they had in the south.
As John watched the developments at Crestfall, his mind returned to the mass grave outside the base—a stark reminder of the countless bodies left from the initial horde attack and the recent skirmish with the Eldorian forces. Like Lieutenant Parker, he knew the grave posed a potential hazard, but unlike the lieutenant, John understood the dire risks of sending unprepared personnel.
With only 400 soldiers at FOB Crestfall, none of whom had the equipment to handle biohazards, John had no intention of risking a closer inspection with human eyes. For now, their role was clear: guard the perimeter and prevent anything—or anyone—potentially infected from breaching their defenses.
But that didn't mean the grave would go unchecked.
John turned to the drone operators. "I want one of our drones rerouted to the mass grave," he instructed. "Have it hover just above the site and scan for any signs of abnormal activity. Heat signatures, movement… anything."
The operators exchanged a quick nod, immediately rerouting one of the MQ-1C Gray Eagles to the location. Within moments, the screen flickered, adjusting to a new angle and zooming in on the coordinates of the burial site. As the drone approached, John's gaze fixed on the screen, his worry growing as he waited to see what might unfold beneath the shifting soil of that ominous grave.
...
The drone's thermal imaging flickered on, casting the dense forest below in shades of orange and red. At first, the trees seemed to blanket the area in a near-impenetrable cover, making any view of the mass grave nearly impossible. But as the drone hovered in place, another image took shape—a series of subtle, disturbing anomalies.
All around the forest floor, small, intense heat signatures pulsed like beacons scattered across the darkened screen. They were pockets of hot air rising steadily, betraying the presence of holes just beneath the surface.
John's stomach dropped as he realized what they were seeing. This wasn't just one isolated burial site. The mass grave had been split into countless deep pits scattered among the trees, and those pits were exuding an unmistakable, unnatural warmth. The heat seemed to escape in faint wisps, an unsettling indication of movement or chemical reactions below.
"What… what are we looking at?" one of the operators muttered, horrified.
John remained silent, his mind racing. It was as if the graves themselves had become infected, the bodies within perhaps shifting or decaying in some unknown, disturbing way. With each second, more of those heat signatures revealed themselves, stretching farther through the forest than he'd anticipated. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer: there is something buried in the ground generating heat.
As the drone's thermal feed focused on one of the brighter heat signatures, something horrific unfolded on screen. A long, segmented creature pushed its way out of the ground, its movements slow and deliberate. It was a miniature version of the Terragnath, no more than two meters in length, but unmistakable in its eerie resemblance to the monstrous original. Its many legs propelled it across the forest floor, leaving a twisted path through the underbrush.
John felt a chill settle in his bones. The realization hit him with brutal clarity: the Terragnath they'd fought and killed hadn't just been an isolated threat—it was a female, carrying eggs, likely spurred into aggression to protect her young.
The thermal reading revealed a startling pattern: pockets of heat weren't confined to the mass grave alone. Instead, a trail of heat signatures stretched from a nest site ten kilometers northwest of Crestfall—the same location where the Terragnath had been killed—all the way to the gravesite. The scattered signatures formed a line, connecting the two areas through the dense forest, like an invisible thread binding the nest and the burial ground.
Even in death, it had left behind an insidious danger, her unborn spawn now hatching in the shallow graves in which they were feeding on the bodies that were buried.
"So that's why it was so relentless," he muttered under his breath, piecing it together. It hadn't been attacking out of pure instinct but had been desperately defending its brood. Now, the forest around Crestfall held a dark, festering hive—a spawning ground for these smaller, lethal creatures.
...
John's voice crackled urgently over Lieutenant Parker's radio, each word carrying the weight of the unfolding crisis.
"Code Red! Crestfall is in immediate danger!" he began, his tone steady but laced with unmistakable urgency. "We've identified creatures—smaller versions of the Terragnath—emerging from the mass grave. They're underground and with huge possiblity that this creatures could burrow toward your location. I need everyone evacuated from the base immediately!"
Parker's face went pale as he processed the message, glancing around at his soldiers who had been on high alert but hadn't anticipated something like this. He quickly relayed the order, and the base sprang into action, soldiers calling out to civilians and gathering essential equipment.
Parker raised his own radio. "Understood, sir. We'll secure as many civilians as possible and evacuate immediately. I'll confirm once everyone's accounted for."
Alarms blared through the air, sending waves of panic rippling through the civilians in Crestfall. People froze, looking around in confusion and fear, while soldiers took up their positions to maintain order. Lieutenant Parker quickly grabbed his megaphone, his voice cutting through the noise with authority.
"Attention, everyone! This is an emergency evacuation! Gather only essential belongings and proceed to the nearest designated checkpoint. Stay calm and follow the soldiers' instructions."
The townspeople, though shaken, began to move, ushering children and helping the elderly. Soldiers moved swiftly, directing groups toward evacuation zones and keeping a watchful eye on the forest line. Vehicles were readied to transport civilians away from the base, while Parker kept his gaze steady, scanning for any sign of movement in the distant tree line.
Unbeknownst to the civilians and soldiers hurrying through Crestfall, each hurried footstep, rumbling vehicle, and wave of shouts sent faint tremors deep into the ground. These vibrations traveled down to the miniature Terragnaths nesting underground, stirring them from their dormant state. Sensitive to even the smallest disturbances, the creatures reacted to the tremors with a sudden frenzy, their instincts urging them to dig toward the source.
Below the surface, the earth shifted as countless claws tore through soil and rock. The swarm of miniature Terragnaths began to converge, their tunneling growing faster and more relentless as they zeroed in on Crestfall, driven by the vibrations above. The urgency in Parker's evacuation order was about to take on a terrifying new dimension.