The skies above Cubao were thick with smoke and static as the Quick Reaction Force thundered in from the west. Two Black Hawk helicopters, call signs Raptor One and Raptor Two, flew low and fast, slicing through the corrupted skyline like knives through wet cloth. Inside Raptor One, the rescue team braced themselves, rifles in hand, armor cinched tight. The command center had gone dark for nearly ten minutes—no signal, no vitals, no comms from Shadow Team. In a place like this, silence meant death.
But not for Shadow 0-1.
Phillip's voice cracked through the comms just seconds after the Warthog's strafing run disrupted the signal jam.
"Shadow 0-1 to MOA Actual—We're alive. Pilots are down, we've got heavy casualties on-site. Still holding perimeter, but we're running low. Infected swarming from the northeast and west. Request QRF and medevac—urgently."
