The screens flickered, the holographic map shifting as another region went dark, consumed by the chaos. A wave of nausea rolled through Valen's gut, a sickening feeling of helplessness that he hadn't experienced even in the most brutal battles. His fingers hovered over the controls, hesitation creeping in. He had led countless operations, made decisions that cost lives for the sake of strategy. But this… this was something else. Entire regions were falling. Cities. Nations. The survival of humanity as they knew it was teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"Valen, we've made a terrifying discovery," Voss's voice crackled through the comms, his words punctuated by ragged breaths.
"The comet fragments... it's not just an attack. It's... it's an experiment." Voss said.
Valen's blood ran cold. "An experiment? What kind of experiment?" He asked.
Voss said, eyes were wide with fear, his voice trembling. "We're being studied, Valen. Like lab rats. The comet, the virus... it's all designed to push us to the brink, to see how we break, how we change."
A wave of revulsion washed over Valen, a visceral reaction to the cold, clinical detachment in Voss's voice. He looked at the map, now a tapestry of crimson and black, marking the zones of destruction, mutation, and unrest that blanketed the globe. He imagined unseen eyes watching them, dissecting their every move, their every struggle, their every death. It was a violation, a perversion of the natural order.
"They think they can treat us like animals in a cage, prodding and experimenting on us as they please?" Valen spat, his voice thick with disgust. He slammed his fist on the console, the metal groaning under the force of his anger. "We won't be their fucking playthings!"
Just then, Valen's console blared with an incoming alert. An automated voice echoed through the command center: "Warning: multiple breaches detected. Sector 7 security is compromised."
Valen's blood ran cold. Sector 7 housed the primary research labs, the heart of their operation, the source of their last hope. He slammed his fist on the table.
"Lieutenant, report! What's your status?" He asked through the comm link.
He then heard Ramirez's panicked voice. "Sir, we've secured the research data, but we're encountering heavy resistance in the lower levels," an officer reported over the comms, his voice strained with the effort of fighting and fear.
"They've breached the security doors on Level 3. We're pinned down. Casualties are mounting. Requesting immediate backup!"
Valen's jaw tightened. He looked at the tactical display. There wasn't enough time. The teams were scattered, some already making their way out, others trapped deep within the facility, fighting to keep the vital research out of enemy hands. He couldn't deploy additional forces without leaving the command center vulnerable. He cursed under his breath, his mind a whirlwind of calculations and desperate strategies.
"Commander Reyes?" Lieutenant Ramirez said, his voice crackled through the comms, desperation edging his tone. "We're trapped in the lab. There's too many of them. If we don't move now, we're all going to die down here."
Valen's mind raced. Every instinct screamed at him to protect the mission at all costs. But deep down, he knew what had to be done. There was only one way to ensure that the research—their one chance at controlling the virus—made it out. It required a diversion. A distraction big enough to pull the creatures away from the evac route.
"Lieutenant, listen to me," Valen spoke with a forced calm that belied the storm inside him. "I'm on my way to you. But I need you to buy me some time. Hold them off as long as you can."
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a shaky breath. "Commander... with all due respect, you can't get to us. There's no way through that horde..."
Valen's voice hardened, brooking no argument. "I need you to focus on getting everyone out. I'll create a diversion, but you'll only have a few minutes. Get the research to the fallback point."
Ramirez's response was immediate, almost desperate. "No! We can find another way. Sir, you can't—"
"This is an order, Lieutenant." Valen's voice cut through like a blade. He didn't have time for sentiment, and neither did Ramirez. "Get out. That's how you help me. "
Before Ramirez could argue further, Valen severed the comms link, his heart pounding in his chest. This was the only option. He had always known, deep down, that a day like this would come—a day when the mission would demand everything from him. And today, he was ready to give it.
Valen clapped a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder, a grim smile playing on his lips. "It's up to you now, Sergeant. Get them to safety. I'll make sure they have a chance to escape."
The sergeant's face was a mask of disbelief. "But sir, what about you? You'll be—"
"I'll be fine, Sergeant. Just focus on your mission. Now go. Once you reach the extraction point, signal HQ for immediate aerial support." Valen ordered, his voice tight with urgency. His tone was final. There would be no further discussion. He grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder, his eyes sweeping the room one last time. His team. His responsibility. "I'll make sure those bastards follow me. Get the data to safety."
The sergeant gave a tight nod, knowing better than to argue. "Yes, sir."
Valen offered a grim smile in return. "Now go."
He stood alone now, facing the oncoming storm. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the air thick with the stench of mutation, the cries of the creatures growing closer by the second. There was no fear in Valen's heart—only resolve.
He raised his rifle, aiming it at the largest cluster of creatures advancing toward the facility. The first few shots rang out, deafening in the silence. It wasn't about killing them; it was about drawing their attention, about making himself the target. And it worked.
The horde shifted, their heads turning toward him, snarling as they began to charge. Valen took another breath, firing in controlled bursts, backing up toward the outer barricade. The creatures were closing in fast now, but so long as they were chasing him, they weren't chasing his team.
"Come on," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he primed a detonator on his belt. "Come and get me."
With a final look at the facility behind him, Valen sprinted toward the outer perimeter, his footsteps heavy but determined. The creatures followed in a blind rage, driven by instinct and hunger. He could hear their growls, feel the ground shake with their advance, but he didn't look back.
Reaching the outer barricade, he vaulted over a supply crate, sliding behind cover as he pulled out the detonator. There was only one way to stop them now. He glanced at the timer—three minutes left. It had to be enough. It had to be.
As the creatures swarmed the barricade, Valen hit the detonator. The explosions ripped through the air, the force of the blast throwing debris and fire in every direction. The creatures were caught in the blast zone, their howls of rage and pain filling the night as the ground shook beneath them.
Valen staggered to his feet, clutching his side where shrapnel had torn through his armor. He was bleeding, but he didn't care. He had done it. The horde was disoriented, scattered by the blast. He had bought his team the time they needed. But the creatures weren't done.
He was outnumbered, outmatched. These weren't the mindless beasts he'd encountered before. These were larger, stronger, their mutations amplified, their eyes burning with a chilling intelligence. Two hulking figures pushed through the throng, their twisted forms dwarfing the others. They moved with a terrifying grace, their gaze fixed on Valen with predatory intensity.
He knew, with a sickening certainty, that he couldn't take them both down. Not like this. Not alone. He fired again, the recoil jolting his wounded shoulder. One creature staggered, but the other lunged, its claws raking the air inches from his face.
Valen rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, the stench of the creature's fetid breath filling his nostrils. He scrambled back, desperation clawing at his throat.
Valen knew he couldn't stay hidden forever. The creatures would eventually find a way to flush him out. He had to act, and act now. Valen leaped from his hiding spot, surprising the creatures. He sprinted towards the closest one, firing his remaining shots in a desperate close-range assault.
The creature staggered, momentarily stunned, giving Valen the chance to slam his rifle butt into its snarling snout. It roared in pain, stumbling back, but its claws still raked across Valen's arm, tearing through his armor.
He rolled between the creatures, narrowly avoiding their snapping jaws, and scrambled up a nearby incline, putting a small ridge between himself and the pursuing beasts. With a burst of adrenaline, he sprinted, narrowly avoided creatures grasping claws.
"Three-Seven to Reyes, we see you! Hostiles are swarming the area. We're engaging, but it's chaos! Find cover—we'll clear a path!"
Valen, battered and bruised, sprinted toward the rendezvous point as the ground trembled under the roar of the approaching gunship. The thunder of engines and the sharp crackle of gunfire filled the air as the gunship strafed enemy positions, attempting to buy him time.
"Reyes, we're coming in low. Be ready!" He heard a voice through the comms.
Valen dashed toward it, his legs burning with exhaustion. He had no time to think—only to act. As he neared the gunship, a crewman tossed down a rope. Without breaking stride, Valen grabbed hold, his muscles screaming in protest as the gunship began to ascend. He was lifted off the ground, swinging wildly as the ship gained altitude.
"Go, go, go!" the pilot barked, pushing the engines to their limit. "We're not out of this yet!"
The gunship lurched violently as it navigated the volatile terrain, jostling his battered body. He was safe, for now, but he knew the danger was far from over.
The pilot glanced back, eyeing Valen's blood-soaked bandages with a wry grin. "Most people would be unconscious by now. Never seen anyone take that many hits and keep moving."
Valen let out a rough chuckle, though it quickly turned into a wince as he shifted in his seat, his wounds protesting. "Guess I'm not most people," he muttered, trying to adjust the bandages wrapped haphazardly around his torso. "Just keep us in the air. I'd rather not become a pincushion for those things again."