There came the damp metallic smell of stale air in the bunker: a too-familiar presence.

He scanned through the dimly lit room, his eyes darting over the flickering monitors lining the old steel walls.

Old, outdated equipment lay abandoned like discarded relics of a past that had moved on, uncaring of the bunker's isolation beneath the Earth.

Dust-covered monitors flickered irregularly, showing lines of broken code, unclear satellite feeds, and fragmented data on the alien invasion.

Alex rubbed his unshaven face, feeling the grit of days spent without rest.

He leaned closer to the cracked screen before him, its harsh light casting deep shadows over his hollowed features.

A twinge of anger surged through him as he read the digital record once again, his voice breaking the cold stillness. 

"March 23, 2023," he muttered, rubbing his rough jawline absently.

"A meteor lands on an unidentified island in the ocean." His voice faltered, a hint of vulnerability breaking through.

"Nothing was found… but its effects had not vanished." 

On the screen, grainy footage of a lush island filled with dense, swaying forests transitioned abruptly into darkness.

The following pictures showed how the meteor's unseen touch had transformed the landscape into twisted vines, horrific trees, and monstrous animals. Alison's jaw clenched.

His fingers hovered over the keys, scrolling through images of bizarre creatures, their limbs unnaturally elongated and eyes glowing with elemental energy. 

The record continued: 

"In the months following the event, mutations spread across the planet. Plants, animals, and even humans changed. Creatures grew violent and powerful, plants became sentient, and humans gained strange powers… powers that came with a price." 

Alex's grip tightened on the desk's edge, his knuckles whitening.

Memories surged of cities engulfed in elemental fires, hurricane-force winds ripping apart neighborhoods, and rampaging beasts shattering military defenses.

He took a shaky breath, blinking back a tear that threatened to break free. 

"The world we knew was gone," he whispered, more to himself than to the empty room.

The monitor flickered, shifting to a video of humanity's final stand: soldiers, elite operatives, and civilians fighting side by side.

Fire and ice clashed against grotesque beasts in a fierce, desperate struggle, a blend of primal savagery and advanced weaponry. 

Alex's voice trembled as he continued reading: 

"Then came the electromagnetic pulse signal. It swept across the globe, plunging us into darkness. For nearly a year, humanity stumbled, grasping for any remnants of technology to rebuild." 

A short clip of survivors, including ragged fighters and exhausted engineers, flashed on the screen whose faces worn by years of conflict, eyes filled with the hollow determination of those who refused to die. 

"Ten years later, as humanity began to reclaim its land, the main warship arrived," Alex read, his voice thick with bitterness.

"It was no mere scout this time. The invasion had begun in earnest." 

He paused, unable to suppress a surge of anger.

Twelve years of survival, loss, and war.

The meteor had been the first strike, a scouting vessel meant to weaken Earth's defenses.

Now, the world was merely a resource depot, its remaining inhabitants either enslaved or hunted. 

But as Alex's gaze drifted back to the monitor, a small notification blinked on the corner of the screen: Calibration: Final Step Complete. 

An unanticipated sense of urgency raced through his heart. The calibration, which was his one opportunity to alter everything, had come to its final phase.

The machine hummed faintly, a low, rhythmic sound that seemed to vibrate through the bunker's stale air. 

Alex tapped at the worn keyboard, his movements precise but restless.

The calibration process had become an obsession, a cruel ritual of failure repeated countless times.

He had adjusted every possible parameter: voltage, frequency, psychic resonance.

And yet, each attempt ended the same way: a red error message flashing, mocking his efforts. 

His mind flashed back to past failures: explosions that burned his left arm, fluctuations in spiritual energy that made him nauseous, and the endless, mocking message - "Calibration Error: Energy Parameters Unstable."

The scar on his arm itched, a phantom reminder of past mistakes. 

But tonight felt different. There was a strange energy in the air, a subtle hum that resonated in his bones.

He clenched his fists, silently urging the system to work.

As the calibration timer reached zero, the screen suddenly blazed with light, nearly blinding him.

He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. 

Calibration Successful: Mental Energy Transference Ready 

For a moment, Alex simply stared. The words seemed surreal, as if he were hallucinating from sheer fatigue.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but the message remained.

A disbelieving laugh escaped his lips. Relief flooded him, mingling with a deep, lingering fear. 

His success felt fragile, like a candle flickering in a storm.

It wasn't just the culmination of years of work but was the slim, desperate hope that the past could be changed.

The sudden appearance of a holographic figure beside him startled Alex.

It was Aiden, the projection of the former Dragon Unit general. His sharp eyes fixed on Alex with a mix of skepticism and hope.

"Can we still use it?" Aiden asked, his voice rough and uncertain, cutting through the fragile moment of triumph.

Alex's face hardened.

"Yes, it's ready. But it's too late to use it on you," he admitted quietly, the weight of regret clear in his voice.

He began typing rapidly, preparing to erase the parameters to prevent them from being compromised.

But before he could finish, a shrill alarm blared through the bunker.

Alex's instincts kicked in as adrenaline surged through him.

He snatched a plasma rifle from the nearby rack, strapped on a utility belt with an elemental disruptor, and activated a small device on his wrist.

Aiden's hologram followed as Alex sprinted to the control panel, trying to shut off the alarm.

New warnings flashed on the screen, unfamiliar ones.

"Damn it," he muttered, realizing that something far bigger than a calibration error had been triggered.

He glanced at the bunker's periscope, spotting a medium-sized cruise ship trapped in ice along the coast.

Its hull was beaten, a ghostly remnant of its former glory.

"Are there any signs of life?" Aiden asked.

Alex scanned the deck, "It doesn't seems so, but we need supplies. It's worth the risk."

He launched a reconnaissance drone, its engines humming as it flew through the devastated streets of the city.

Ruined buildings stood like skeletal remains, and the drone's thermal sensors detected nothing. The ship appeared abandoned.

Alex's unease grew, but he couldn't afford to let the opportunity slip.

He carefully and slowly came out of the bunker and looked around at the seaside city that used to be full of people.

The sound of wind rushing through broken windows and other things in the way broke the silence.

A lot of the scenery was frozen over with snow and ice, which made it cold and clear.

The cruise ship was far away, and its huge hull was stuck in the frozen water near the beach, a huge reminder of how things used to be.

He took a deep breath and moved forward, every sense heightened as he picked his way across the ruins.

He took slow, deliberate steps because the ground was full of broken buildings, cars, and chunks of ice, making it unsafe to walk on.

One mistake could wake up things that were hiding in the dark.

Finally reaching the edge of the ship, he let out a silent breath of relief, though he didn't relax just yet.

With a swift, quiet motion, he climbed up and slipped onto the deck, the crunch of snow under his boots muffled by years of ice and decay.

He knew the ship would be a mixed bag with a potential treasure trove of supplies or a grim tomb of memories and bodies left behind.

His plan was to begin on the upper deck and go down one room at a time.

The ship was very quiet inside, and the air was cold and musty. There were cracks in the hull that let light through, casting dancing shadows along the walls.

These shadows showed up on frozen bodies lying over control panels, the last members of a crew that had been forgotten.

He saw pieces of beast that had been killed here and there with their fur and claws were mangled and frozen lying on the floors like war trophies.

As he looked through each room for anything that could be helpful, like canned goods, medical supplies, tools, or even blankets.

He would sometimes find something that he could save, something that might make a difference, even though most of the rooms was empty.

As he neared the lower levels, a strange sensation prickled at the edge of his mind, a faint flicker of something… alive, or at least active.

In the center of the room stood a massive block of ice, encasing a woman with ethereal features of pale skin, silver hair, and an expression of fierce determination.

Before he could investigate, a low growl emanated from behind him.

He spun around to face three massive ice wolves, their fur bristling with icicles.

He raised his rifle, but the wolves' sub-zero blood made them invisible to his thermal scanner.

The wolves lunged, and Alex fired rapidly. He dodged a swipe, pulled out an elemental disruptor from his belt and hurled it at the nearest wolf.

It detonated in a blast of electrical energy, putting the creature momentarily immobile.

Moving swiftly, Alex jabbed his combat knife deep into the chest of the second wolf, slicing into the mutant heart.

But the last wolf struck back tearing through his clothing and injuring his arm. 

Ignoring the pain, he activated the device on his wrist, forming a thin shield of spiritual energy around him.

Summoning the last of his strength, Alex charged forward, slamming the shield into the wolf and smashing its skull with the butt of his rifle.

Breathing healing breaths ragged within his chest, he faced the ice block once more.

The spiritual energy that swirled out from behind the woman's ice block was strong, desperate but unyielding. Maybe she held the key to everything.

"I have to get her out of here," he whispered, loading the ice onto a makeshift sled.

His steps were slow but steady as he made his way back to the bunker, hope rekindled amidst the cold reality.

The fate of the world now lay within the ice, and Alex's determination burned brighter than ever.