The red moon was drawing closer. It was already nightfall, and the sky was unusually clear, revealing countless stars against the inky backdrop. As the moon began its slow ascent, only half of it was visible, its pale glow casting eerie shadows across the barren land.
For now, it remained its usual color, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before it turned red and unleashed hell.
J's group trudged forward, their faces grim as the imposing silhouette of the Citadel finally came into view. It was a massive, fortress-like structure carved into the rocky landscape, its design a stark contrast to the ruins they had left behind.
Towering walls of reinforced steel and concrete encircled the Citadel, stretching over 50 feet high and topped with barbed wire and automated turrets.
Watchtowers were positioned at regular intervals, their spotlights scanning the area beyond the walls for any sign of movement. Massive gates, reinforced with thick layers of metal, stood as the only entry point.
On either side of the gates, rows of heavy artillery cannons pointed outward, ready to obliterate anything that came too close.
Inside the Citadel, at the heart of its operations, lay the Central Hub, a high-tech command center bustling with activity.
Standing at its center was Commander Eira Voss, a striking woman in her early forties. Her dark hair was streaked with silver and tied in a tight braid that fell over her shoulder.
Her sharp, angular features exuded authority, and her piercing green eyes seemed to miss nothing. She wore a sleek black uniform with silver accents, her Vanguard insignia gleaming on her chest.
Eira stood with arms crossed, watching intently as her team worked at a row of large, curved monitors. Each screen displayed live CCTV footage from the perimeter, capturing every movement of the Reclaimers.
The room was dimly lit, with the glow of the screens illuminating the faces of the fifteen workers seated at their stations. The faint hum of machinery and the soft murmur of voices filled the air as they analyzed data, tracked patterns, and coordinated defenses.
One of the workers suddenly stiffened, leaning closer to their screen.
"Commander Voss, we've got movement—sector 12-C!"
"What is it?" Eira stepped closer, her voice calm but firm.
The worker's face lit up in surprise.
"It's J's squad! They're alive! Two Vanguard soldiers and… two kids? They're approaching the south gate."
For a moment, Eira's icy demeanor softened.
"Send a rescue team immediately. Get them inside before the moon turns."
The worker nodded, issuing the order. Eira turned her attention back to the screens. Her relief was short-lived as her gaze shifted to another feed. The number of Reclaimers outside the walls was steadily increasing.
"Alert all sectors," she commanded.
"The red moon is coming. Issue the warning to the living quarters. Everyone needs to prepare for the bunkers."
The living quarters within the Citadel were organized into tight, grid-like structures. Rows of prefabricated metal housing units were stacked on top of each other, creating towering blocks.
Each unit was small, barely enough for a family, but it was functional—equipped with bunk beds, a tiny kitchen, and a shared bathroom. Narrow corridors connected the blocks, and overhead catwalks allowed for quick movement between levels.
Despite the cramped conditions, the quarters were meticulously maintained, a testament to the Citadel's strict order.
Speakers embedded in the walls crackled to life as the emergency announcement rang out.
"Attention all residents. The red moon is imminent. Please gather your essentials and proceed to your assigned bunkers immediately."
Families hurriedly packed their belongings, children clutching stuffed toys while parents grabbed emergency supplies. The corridors buzzed with activity as people shuffled toward the reinforced underground bunkers.
These bunkers, buried deep beneath the Citadel, were built to withstand even the most ferocious Reclaimer assaults.
Back at the Central Hub, Eira's voice cut through the controlled chaos.
"Dammit! It's the red moon for sure tonight," she muttered, her fists clenching. "And those bastards are going to act like rabid animals. Most of them will make it to our walls."
A soldier approached, saluting sharply.
"Commander, all Vanguard units are standing by."
Eira nodded.
"Deploy every Vanguard soldier to the walls. I want all artillery systems online and every turret locked and loaded. No hesitation—if it moves and isn't human, shoot it down."
The Vanguard soldiers, clad in their imposing Aegis suits, moved into position. The suits hummed softly as they activated, their exoskeletons enhancing the soldiers' speed and strength.
Each soldier carried a mix of heavy firearms and close-combat weapons, their faces hidden behind helmets equipped with advanced targeting systems. They spread out along the walls, their sharp eyes scanning the darkness beyond.
"Turrets online," a technician reported.
"Artillery cannons primed," another added.
Eira's gaze remained fixed on the monitors. The Reclaimers were closing in, their grotesque forms illuminated by the moonlight. She tapped a console, bringing up a direct feed from the rescue team en route to J's group.
"Get them inside, no matter the cost," she said firmly.
The red moon began to rise fully, its crimson glow bathing the landscape in an ominous light.
The hum from the Spire grew louder, almost a roar now, as the Reclaimers grew more frenzied.
Eira's voice echoed through the comms.
"This is it. All units, hold the line. The Citadel stands tonight."
The rescue squad's reinforced vehicle roared to life, its massive, armored frame glinting under the eerie light of the rising moon.
The vehicle was a beast—built for survival in hostile terrain. Thick plating covered its body, and its enormous, oversized wheels were designed to cross treacherous terrain and small fissures with ease.
Mounted on its roof was a heavy turret manned by one of the squad members, scanning the horizon for any sign of Reclaimers.
Inside the vehicle, Commander Leon Hale, a grizzled veteran with a stern face and a voice like gravel, barked orders.
"Keep your eyes peeled. We've got one job tonight: get them in. No mistakes."
"Copy that, Commander," replied Private Isla Vega from the turret. She adjusted her grip on the controls, her eyes darting across the dark, desolate landscape.
The driver, Corporal Darius Reed, kept his focus on the uneven terrain.
"We're five clicks out from the south gate. Anyone got eyes on them yet?"
"Not yet," muttered Sergeant Cole Brandt, who sat in the back, his rifle ready.
"But I don't like how quiet it is. It's too damn quiet for the red moon."
Leon nodded grimly. "That quiet won't last. Stay sharp."
Meanwhile, J's squad had spotted the vehicle's headlights piercing through the gloom.
"Is that them?" Kane asked, squinting into the distance.
"Looks like it," J confirmed.
"But we've got movement to the east. Those bastards aren't far."
Lilith turned, gripping Ash's arm tightly.
"We have to move. Now."
The vehicle reached the squad's position, skidding to a halt. The rear hatch opened with a hydraulic hiss, and Cole jumped out first, scanning the area.
"J! Kane! Over here, now!"
"Move, move!" Leon shouted from inside.
J led the charge, waving for the others to follow.
"Come on, kids, let's go!"
As they sprinted toward the vehicle, the first Reclaimer emerged from the shadows—a lanky Runner, its elongated limbs propelling it forward at an unnatural speed.
"Contact!" Isla called from the turret.
She swiveled the gun and unleashed a barrage of bullets, tearing through the Runner before it could close the gap.
"Nice shot!" Cole shouted, covering the squad as they scrambled into the vehicle.
"Get in, get in!"
Lilith pushed Ash up into the car first, then climbed in herself. Kane and J followed, with Cole pulling them in just as another Runner appeared on the horizon.
"Go, Darius, go!" Leon ordered, slamming the hatch shut.