71:45:23
Dawnstrike
Gallinti eyes were zeroed in on the no man's land, the dust settled, calm before the chaos. The enemy were on the other side, the red haze that had taken over the world held no concequence over our position.
It simply was no there.
But Darius' gammas were, in this case. His created monsters; ferals.
Then it happened.
The first feral broke from the tree line.
Not cautiously. Not with strategy. It simply charged—a hulking mass of twisted muscle and rage, its eyes burning red in the Bloodmoon's light. Its roar split the night, primal and raw.
And behind it came the others.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
A living tide of teeth and claws and mindless hunger, pouring out of the darkness like a plague unleashed. They didn't move like soldiers. They moved like a swarm—chaotic, feral, unstoppable.
Gallinti didn't flinch.
"Steady," he said into his comm, his voice calm. Almost bored. "Let them close the gap."
