687: Story 687: Ashes of the Past 687: Story 687: Ashes of the Past The smoke had yet to settle.
Flas licked at the rubble-strewn battlefield, casting an eerie glow against the bloodstained horizon.
The missile strike had obliterated everything in its path, leaving behind only silence and the stench of burning flesh.
Sergeant Darius “Hellhound” Rook coughed as he pulled himself free from the debris, his body aching from the force of the blast.
His earpiece crackled.
“Rook… report.”
Kruger’s voice.
Rook turned, scanning the devastation.
His breath hitched.
The general was gone.
And standing in the middle of the destruction, unmoving, was Vasily Petrov.
A silhouette against the fire, the old warlord dusted ash from his shoulder, his expression unreadable.
His uniform was torn, but he remained standing.
Rook’s grip tightened on his rifle.
This man had done what no one else ever could.
He had made Kruger disappear.
A flicker of movent caught his eye—survivors.
A handful of Kruger’s undead soldiers still twitched, groaning as they tried to rise.
Petrov sighed, stepping forward.
“Stay down.”
His boot crushed the skull of one nearest to him.
Rook swallowed hard.
He could still hear Kruger’s last command in his head.
“If I fall, burn the world to the ground.”
But how could he do that, when he wasn’t sure if Kruger was even alive?
Petrov turned to him now, his eyes calm but piercing.
“You have a choice, soldier.”
Rook remained silent.
“You can fight for a dead man’s dream…” Petrov’s voice was even.
“Or you can rember what it ans to be human.”
A heavy pause.
Rook exhaled slowly.
Kruger wasn’t dead.
He couldn’t be.
But even if he was alive… sothing had changed.
The ground beneath them rumbled.
A sharp, unnatural crack split the air.
Petrov’s gaze snapped to the ruins ahead.
Sothing was coming.
Then, a low, inhuman growl echoed through the wasteland.
Rook’s blood ran cold.
That wasn’t Kruger.
Petrov’s jaw tightened.
“You should run.”
But Rook didn’t move.
Not when the shadows in the fire began shifting—not when the twisted, malford figures began erging.
Kruger’s army… was evolving.
And whatever was left of the Overlord, it wasn’t human anymore.
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