The wind had picked up.
Snow fell in slow, uneven sheets, blanketing the remains of the outpost in silence. What had once been a forward operating post now looked like a tomb — the kind that didn't need walls to trap the dead.
Kael stood near the entrance, staring at the words carved into the metal:
"WE HUNGER STILL."
The letters gleamed faintly under the dull light, thin ice forming in their grooves. His breath fogged the air as he spoke.
"This wasn't written in rage. It's a warning."
"Or a promise," Rin muttered, stepping beside him.
Taro kept his distance, nervously scanning the trees. Every shifting shadow made him twitch.
"So… Alpha Squad's gone. No comms, no survivors, and that—" he pointed toward the wall "—is staring us in the face. What now?"
Lira was already kneeling over a broken comm-unit half-buried in the snow. Its casing was bent, the circuitry exposed and dead. She brushed frost off the screen, eyes flickering over fragments of recorded transmissions.
"They tried to call for extraction," she said quietly. "Signal jammed mid-send. But look at this."
She turned the screen toward them — static lines overlaid with faint heat signatures, like silhouettes moving through fog.
"There were more than four Wendigos," she continued. "At least seven, maybe more. And the readings… they moved too organized for ferals."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Then something's commanding them."
Lira murmured, glancing at him. "The data logs mention a high-tier presence leading the pack. That's likely our missing link."
"Our job's recon," Rin said flatly. "We're not supposed to fight a commander-level Wendigo."
Kael looked around the clearing again — the broken weapons, the scattered masks, the frozen blood.
"Tell that to Alpha Squad."
---
They found partial shelter in what remained of the storage building. A half-collapsed roof and torn tarps made a crude cover from the snow. Lira set up her datapad to stabilize their comm-signal. The faint blue light reflected off her glasses as she worked. Taro struck a flare to keep them warm — the small flame hissed, its glow trembling against the walls.
For a few moments, no one spoke. The only sounds were the wind outside and the slow crackle of burning fuel.
"Commander Voss told us to assess, not engage," Lira said, finally breaking the silence. "That means we find out what happened here, report, and fall back."
"And if they're still out there?" Rin asked.
"Then we make it out alive with proof."
Kael tightened his gloves, staring at the map projected on the pad. Red zones marked interference regions. The largest covered the northern ridge — where Alpha's signal died.
"We'll sweep the area in a grid," he said, tracing a path with his finger. "No splitting up yet. We stay close, relay constantly. We find tracks, we mark them, and we don't engage unless absolutely necessary."
"So just sneak around the frozen murder zone," Taro said dryly. "Got it. Easy mission."
"You can always wait in the ship next time," Rin shot back.
Taro gave him a weak grin. "Nah, I like the view."
The attempt at humor broke a little of the tension — but not much.
---
By the time they moved again, the snow had thickened into a veil. The forest around Ravenwood was quieter than it had any right to be — as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Lira took point with her scanner, the blue beam cutting through the fog. Kael followed close behind, eyes sweeping between shadows. The deeper they went, the colder it became — not the natural cold of winter, but something heavy, almost deliberate.
Then came the first sign.
"Hold," Kael whispered.
Rin crouched low, scanning the snow. The trail was faint — indentations, almost human, but the toes ended in claw marks. The stride was uneven, as if whatever made them had struggled to maintain form.
"Recently changed," Rin said quietly.
"Or still changing," Lira added.
They followed the tracks for several meters before they stopped abruptly beside a tree. Its bark was split open, frozen sap dripping down like amber blood. Embedded in the trunk was a hunting knife — the standard issue of Alpha Squad.
Taro knelt beside it. "This one belonged to their captain… Venn Ardis."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then they fought here."
He turned toward the trees, scanning the darkness between them.
Something moved — far, just out of range. A shifting shape that slipped between trunks like smoke. When Kael blinked, it was gone.
---
They followed the trail deeper into the forest until they reached an open glade. The air was thick with the scent of iron. Lira's scanner beeped faintly — faint residual heat signatures, but faint enough to suggest death, not life.
"Kael," she said softly. "Look."
Half-buried in snow were remnants of weapons, shredded uniforms, torn dog tags — but no bodies.
"They were dragged," Rin said, pointing at the grooves. "Taken somewhere."
Kael's grip on his sword tightened. "Toward the caves."
The team looked toward the northeast ridge — a dark cleft cutting through the forest where mist bled from the earth like smoke. That was where the trail led.
"We'll rest here a bit," Kael decided. "We move on the caves at dawn."
"You sure?" Rin asked. "Feels like sitting under a storm."
"We need light for visibility," Kael replied. "And we don't know how many are in there. Going in blind is suicide."
Rin grunted but didn't argue.
They began setting up a temporary perimeter — motion sensors, tripwires, flare charges. The familiarity of routine steadied their nerves. But as the night deepened, even routine felt fragile.
Taro took watch, sitting by the low fire. Lira checked the scanners again, then leaned back against her pack, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids. Rin cleaned his blade in silence, the steel catching every flicker of flame.
Kael stood at the edge of camp, eyes on the ridge. The mist there swirled unnaturally — like it was breathing.
Something in the darkness watched back. He could feel it.