The sky was a dull, lifeless gray, stretching over the ruined remains of what had once been a peaceful village. General Viktor 'Bloodfang' Kruger stood motionless in the street, his gloved fingers tightening around the grip of his pistol. His sharp eyes scanned the eerie silence, searching for movent among the skeletal remains of houses.
The dead were here. He could feel them.
Kruger holstered his pistol and pulled his combat knife from his belt. The blade glead under the weak daylight, a weapon that had seen more battles than most n could endure. He took a slow step forward, boots crunching against the dirt. The entire area slled of death and decay, a scent that had beco all too familiar.
From the distant church tower, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook's voice crackled in his earpiece.
"General, I've got visuals on three hostiles. No heat signatures—definitely undead."
Kruger tilted his head slightly, eyes locking onto the remains of an abandoned market. The wooden stalls were broken, and crates lay scattered across the mud. He could see dark figures moving sluggishly between the debris.
"Standard or mutations?" Kruger asked, his voice calm.
"Standard," Rook confird. "But sothing feels off. They're not moving like usual."
Kruger moved in closer, watching the creatures carefully. Normally, the undead road aimlessly until they sensed movent, but these… they were standing still, heads twitching, as if waiting.
He tightened his grip on his knife. "I'm going in."
With calculated precision, he advanced. The first undead, a forr soldier with half its face missing, remained eerily still until Kruger was within striking range. Then, with unnatural speed, it turned, jaws snapping.
Kruger didn't hesitate. He drove the knife through its skull, twisting sharply before yanking it free. The creature collapsed instantly.
But then, the others reacted.
The two remaining undead turned in unison, their heads snapping toward Kruger. He took a step back, his instincts flaring. These weren't mindless husks. They were coordinated.
Before he could react, a shadow moved behind him. Kruger spun, narrowly dodging a swipe from a fourth undead he hadn't seen. He gritted his teeth—he was being hunted.
"Rook, these bastards are learning."
"Fall back, General! We've got sothing bigger coming from the western road!"
Kruger cursed under his breath and sprinted for cover behind a crumbling barricade. From the fog beyond the village, heavy footsteps approached. A deep, guttural growl echoed through the ruins. Then, a monstrous Brute-Class Undead erged, its massive fra covered in thick, bone-like armor.
Kruger exhaled slowly. "Looks like we just found the real fight."
He wiped his blade on his vest, eyes narrowing. This war was evolving—and so were the enemies.
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