The air in the old tunnels was thick, laden with dust, rust, and worse.
The echoes of explosions and gunfire above still reverberated through the walls, a reminder that the surface was no longer safe.
Elias moved quickly, breathing steadily.
Grimm and Ash led the way ahead, noses to the ground, alert for any threat.
Behind him, Viktor Hale ran silently, his face rigid with tension.
The maintenance gallery, built decades ago to house communication cables, had become a forgotten tomb.
Now it was their only path to escape.
---
Dim emergency lights, still miraculously operational in some sections, cast weak red glows against the cracked walls.
Every shadow seemed to move.
Every sound seemed a threat.
But stopping meant dying.
And Elias had no intention of dying there.
---
"Where does this lead?" he asked, voice low.
Hale answered between heavy breaths:
"About five kilometers south. An old pumping station. Abandoned."
Elias nodded.
Five kilometers.
Through a subterranean labyrinth.
With enemies behind — and perhaps something worse ahead.
Nothing he wasn't used to.
---
For nearly an hour, they advanced in silence.
Only the sound of boots on corroded metal and the dogs' breathing filled the void.
Elias kept his weapon raised, finger lightly on the trigger.
Every curve approached like an ambush.
Every junction, a potential trap.
They were ghosts moving through the rotting intestines of the earth.
---
Finally, they reached a broader chamber.
An old distribution room.
Cables hung from the ceiling like black spiderwebs.
Rusting machines creaked faintly under the weight of time.
There, they paused — but only briefly.
Hale leaned against a cracked wall, catching his breath.
Grimm and Ash spread out, sniffing cautiously.
Elias kept his eyes on the darkness ahead.
Always forward.
---
"Now that we can breathe..." Elias muttered, "tell me more."
Hale wiped sweat from his forehead.
"They call it Project Aurora. The idea is to replicate what we achieved with you — but... controlled."
"To put immortality in the right hands," Elias growled with disdain.
Hale nodded grimly.
"But it's more than that. They're accelerating the process. Using... impure methods."
"How?" Elias demanded.
The general hesitated for a second.
Just enough to set off alarms in Elias's mind.
---
"A mixture of alchemy, bioengineering, and... unauthorized techniques," he finally said, carefully.
Elias felt anger stir inside him.
He knew the price of immortality.
He knew the horrors that came when men played gods.
And now, a new generation was trying again.
Faster.
More brutal.
More dangerous.
---
"Where is this base?" Elias asked.
Hale pulled a small map from his jacket.
He unfolded it over a rusted toolbox.
"Here," he pointed — a coastal area, isolated between mountains and canyons.
"Natural protection," Elias muttered.
Hale confirmed:
"And artificial protection. Automated systems. Reinforced security. Constant patrols."
Elias studied the map in silence.
The challenge was enormous.
But necessary.
If the White Dawn succeeded, the dead world they knew would become even worse.
An empire of immortals.
An endless nightmare.
---
As they discussed routes and strategies, Grimm let out a low growl.
Ash stiffened, ears erect.
Elias lifted his rifle instantly.
Peered into the shadows ahead.
Something was moving.
Silent.
Fast.
Intelligent.
---
"We've got company," Elias growled.
Hale drew his pistol.
The emergency lights flickered, throwing shifting shadows across the walls.
Brief movements.
Distant whispers.
Soft, almost inaudible footsteps.
It wasn't surface enemies.
It wasn't human.
Elias felt the hairs on his neck stand.
Something else hunted them down here.
Something that shouldn't exist.
---
"Chasers," Hale muttered tensely.
Elias shot him a hard look.
"Chasers?"
"Failed experiments. Hybrid soldiers. Part human, part... something else."
Elias swallowed his rising anger.
This was Hale's legacy.
The nightmare now chasing them through the bowels of the earth.
---
"How many?" Elias asked.
Hale looked around, pale.
"An entire squad, maybe more."
Wonderful.
---
Without another word, Elias signaled them to move.
Silent advance.
Defensive formation.
Grimm and Ash ahead.
Hale in the center.
Elias covering the rear.
Every step measured.
Every breath controlled.
---
The noise grew.
Dragging footsteps.
Claws scraping against metal.
Whispers that made no sense, echoing through the corridors.
Elias knew they couldn't stop.
Couldn't fight here.
They had to reach the pumping station.
They had to escape.
---
They ran.
Through narrow corridors.
Over broken debris.
Skirting bubbling pools of black liquid.
The shadows behind them multiplied.
Drawing closer with each heartbeat.
---
A savage roar shattered the air.
Something big and fast lunged from behind.
Grimm barked furiously.
Ash spun, ready to strike.
Elias turned — just long enough to glimpse the creature.
Humanoid.
Tall.
Torn flesh, exposed muscles.
Eyes glowing white in the darkness.
It moved unnaturally, as if gravity itself were optional.
---
"Don't stop!" Elias shouted.
He fired.
Three shots.
The creature recoiled, but didn't fall.
It screamed — a sound neither human nor animal.
A sound designed to shatter willpower.
---
They ran harder.
Never looking back.
Never hesitating.
The tunnel seemed endless.
Each turn promised an exit — and delivered only deeper darkness.
---
Finally, a different light appeared ahead.
Faint, but real.
A metal sign marked the pumping station.
Salvation.
Or at least a chance.
---
With their last breath, Elias, Hale, Grimm, and Ash burst through the emergency door, slamming it shut behind them.
Almost immediately, something slammed into the door with terrifying force.
But the door — built to withstand explosions — held.
For now.
---
Inside the station, safety was only relative.
They still had to escape.
Reach the surface.
Find a new refuge.
Plan the attack against the White Dawn.
And survive.
---
Elias leaned against the wall, panting.
He looked at Hale — filthy, bloodied, but still standing.
Looked at Grimm and Ash — loyal, alive.
And felt something he hadn't in a long time.
Not hope.
But something close.
Something resembling purpose.
---
The war was far from over.
In truth, it had only just begun.
---
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