'What a mess.'
That was Lake's first thought upon returning.
Explosions had left the ground pockmarked with craters, tents lay shredded, and splintered logs jutted from the earth like spears. Nearby, a pile of corpses caught his eye.
'Nine dead.'
He exhaled sharply, scanning the survivors. More than half bore injuries—some minor, others severe. Nearby, a patch of grass had been repurposed as a makeshift infirmary, littered with torn tent fabric and the groans of wounded hunters.
Lake paused for a moment, observing the injured hunters before striding toward the command tent—the only one still standing.
He paused outside, letting his presence seep into the surroundings, alerting the group inside of his arrival. Then, he pushed the flap aside.
Inside, Liam and Gwen stood with the remaining group leaders, hunched over a map. Of the original 12, only 6 group leaders remained. Conversation died as Lake entered. Eyes locked onto him, wary and tense.
