Location: Ruined Romanian Military Outpost, Near Ukrainian Border
Time: 18:45 PM | Day 1 of Infection Collapse
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the twisted wreckage of the command post. Blood painted the walls, drying into a deep rust-red crust. The air smelled of rot, gunpowder, and something worse—death that had begun to fester.
Logan knelt behind a concrete slab, scanning the perimeter through the iron sights of his battered HK416. His shoulder throbbed, and dried blood crusted on his forehead, but he couldn't afford rest. The infected were close.
"System, show me the remaining WAR CREDITS."
> [Current WAR CREDITS: 64.2]
"Not enough for armor or a full squad… Damn it." He exhaled slowly. "Let's see what we can get for recon."
> [Available for Deployment]
– Ranger Scout (x1) – Cost: 20 WAR CREDITS
– Drone Recon (Short-Range) – Cost: 30 WAR CREDITS
– Infantry Rifleman (Basic Loadout) – Cost: 25 WAR CREDITS
He needed eyes, not more noise. Logan selected the Ranger Scout.
> [Summoning: Ranger Scout – Codename "Wraith"]
[Deployment Successful]
A shimmer of light pulsed next to him. A young man materialized in light body armor, face camouflaged, eyes sharp.
"Sir," the scout saluted, his voice crisp. "Ranger Codename Wraith, reporting."
"You're recon. No contact unless necessary. Sweep the outer perimeter, 100 meters west, then report." Logan kept it short.
"Yes, sir."
The scout vanished into the ruins, moving like a ghost.
Logan's hand found a cracked radio. No signal. No backup. The only friendly voice he had now came from a voice inside his skull, dressed in clean UI overlays and military tone.
> [Infected Activity: High – Hostiles Approaching from Southeast]
[Estimated Time to Contact: 5 minutes]
Logan gritted his teeth. "You've got to be kidding me."
He checked his magazines. One full, two half-spent. He moved to a second-floor overlook of what had once been a mess hall. Tables were overturned, corpses lined the floor, and flies buzzed in a chaotic dirge.
Footsteps.
No, not footsteps—scraping.
A cluster of infected stumbled into the clearing. Five… seven… ten. One of them still wore a Ukrainian border guard's uniform. It dragged a damaged AK, its fingers twitching, uncertain.
The virus was learning.
Logan raised his rifle and braced it against the concrete. He fired a short burst—three shots, three kills. But the horde didn't scatter. It screamed.
They charged.
He switched to semi, controlling the recoil. The first wave dropped, but more poured through a collapsed wall. One infected—a massive man with military tattoos and a twisted spine—shrugged off a shot to the chest. Logan cursed and aimed higher.
Headshot.
His rifle clicked empty.
"Shit."
As he ducked for cover, a shadow moved beside him.
Wraith.
The scout had returned, blood on his knife.
"They're circling from the east too. We're surrounded."
"Then we break west. Regroup and find a better fallback point."
Wraith nodded. "Lead the way."
They moved fast and silent, cutting through ruined corridors and ducking under twisted beams. Logan's muscles burned, but adrenaline dulled the pain.
As they reached the fence, a shriek erupted behind them. A faster infected—a lean, wiry woman with dead, predatory eyes—lunged from the side. Logan barely rolled in time. Her fingers clawed his vest.
Wraith reacted instantly, driving his blade into her temple. She twitched once, then collapsed.
Logan didn't thank him. There was no time.
They made it out, vaulting over rubble into the skeletal remains of a parking lot. The city skyline loomed in the distance—half of it burning, the rest already dead.
> [Temporary Safety Achieved – No Hostiles Detected Nearby]
Logan finally allowed himself to breathe.
> [New Area Discovered: Urban Fringe Zone – Sector 3C]
[Mission Objective Updated: Establish Forward Command Post]
Wraith looked at the burning horizon. "What's next, sir?"
Logan lowered his rifle and looked out over the wasteland. "We dig in. We build. And we fight like hell."