Erika moved through the skeletal remains of Ortigas, her boots crunching softly on debris-strewn floors. The red mist had thinned, but the air remained heavy with decay and tension. She kept her rifle at the ready, eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The city was no longer hers; it belonged to the Bloom now.
Back at the MOA Complex, Thomas Estaris stood before a bank of monitors, each displaying live feeds from surveillance drones. One screen tracked Erika's movements, her figure a solitary beacon amidst the desolation. Another feed caught his attention: a formation of Bloomspawn, their grotesque forms moving with unsettling coordination, advancing towards the complex's perimeter.
"Marcus, what's the status of those hostiles?" Thomas asked, his voice tight.
"They're closing in, sir. Estimated time to contact: fifteen minutes."
Thomas's jaw tightened. He couldn't afford to lose the MOA Complex. Not now.
"Deploy the Warthog."
