The forest was still hissing with steam.
Pillars of white vapor rose from the cracks of the ground behind them, where the EMP-freeze detonation had turned half the metro tunnels into a frozen tomb. Even after they'd sprinted miles away, Team B — Netoshka, Taran, Genrihk, Twila, Zopi, Circe, Zev, Surgien, and Rue — could still feel the cold clinging to their lungs.
But ahead, through the drifting mist… a cabin finally appeared.
Weathered wood. Broken windows. An old fire tower behind it like a crooked spine.
And outside it—
Team A waited.
Ron, Serah, Raine, Alev, Battery, SP3CTR, Ginny, and Renzo — all battered, bruised, and covered in soot. Alev still had burn marks across both arms. Raine's armor was dented from ghoul claws. Ginny coughed up ash as she waved.
"You made it—!" she shouted.
Netoshka didn't slow down; she marched straight to them, scanning everyone for injuries.
"Report. Quickly."
Ron wiped sweat from his brow.
"Forest ambush. Half a dozen wretches on us. Alev panicked and lit the damn place on fire—"
"It WAS an accident!" Alev barked.
Battery's glowing eyes blinked.
"Statement: It was absolutely not an accident."
Alev swore at him.
Netoshka rubbed her temples.
"Enough. Everyone inside. We debrief now."
The entire Inferius squad packed into the cramped cabin. Rain hammered the roof. Wind howled through the cracks in the walls. The air smelled of smoke and frost.
Ron set down a portable projection transmitter, unfolded its antenna, and powered it up. The cabin filled with a low hum as the device synced to a remote encrypted frequency.
A holographic screen flickered to life.
Director Lucretia appeared.
Her white coat. Her calm, unnervingly steady expression. The faint hum of machinery behind her.
"Good evening, Inferius Squad."
The room fell silent. Even the storm seemed to pause.
Lucretia's eyes scanned them one by one.
"You look… exhausted."
She inhaled softly.
"Report your status."
Netoshka stepped forward, standing at attention despite the grime on her face and the trembling still running through her muscles.
"Director, the mission in the metro tunnels was compromised. We encountered a sentient AI — designation Kraustein. An old New Horizon relic from the 8th Cataclysmic War. He controlled bio-mutant entities called Vitraspawns… and something bigger."
Genrihk folded his arms.
"The Belfre. Primal units."
Lucretia's expression tightened — a subtle, rare show of concern.
"So the rumors were true," she murmured.
"Kraustein survived the purge."
Surgien threw his hands up.
"YES! He DID! And he tried killing us with EVERYTHING he had — mutants, gas, doors slamming in our faces, taunting—"
Netoshka cut him off.
"We destroyed his sector. For now."
Lucretia nodded slowly.
"And the E-116 serum? Do you still have it?"
Taran stepped forward, patting the reinforced container strapped to his chest.
"Safe. Still intact."
"Good," Lucretia said, voice softening.
"That serum is not replaceable. Its potential… is beyond critical."
Renzo raised a hand. "Director… regarding the Bloodhawk—"
"Yes," she interrupted with a sigh.
"We are aware of the crash."
Alev grimaced.
"You're not mad, right—?"
"No," she said.
"Airships can be rebuilt. You cannot."
A wave of relief washed through the squad.
Lucretia continued:
"A replacement vessel has already been arranged. A submarine stationed off the coast of Cerevra City, hidden at Docking Sector 5-V. The coordinates will be uploaded to your comms shortly."
Ginny's tablet pinged.
"Got it," she said.
Netoshka exhaled.
"Director… what's our next assignment?"
Lucretia's expression shifted. Hardening.
This was the look of a woman delivering orders that could change the course of a continent.
"Your next objective is infiltration."
The holographic screen flickered to a map — Cerevra City glowing in red, lined with danger zones and controlled districts.
Inside its center was a name.
Malicer.
Lucretia spoke:
"Your target is Malicer, a military chemist and political manipulator with ties to Kersnik's Order of Synarchy. He is developing a new chemical gas weapon. Something catastrophic. He intends to ship it overseas within days."
Netoshka crossed her arms.
"And who are the buyers?"
"Unknown," Lucretia said.
"Possibly multiple nations. Possibly rogue states. Possibly… something worse."
The squad felt the weight of her pause.
Lucretia leaned forward.
"That chemical must not reach the surface world. Understood?"
Netoshka nodded once, firmly.
"We'll secure it. And we'll bring Malicer in alive."
"Good."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And Netoshka?"
Netoshka straightened.
"You mentioned Kraustein. The Vitraspawns. The Belfre."
Lucretia's voice dropped, faintly shaken.
"These things… were supposed to be buried. It seems your enemies are resurfacing old nightmares."
A crack of thunder shook the cabin.
Lucretia gave a final nod.
"Rest while you can. Your window in Cerevra is small. Move before sunrise."
The signal cut.
The cabin dimmed.
Silence.
Then Taran groaned as he slumped onto a chair.
"Well. No pressure."
Twila laughed nervously. "Cerevra City infiltration. Great. Just what we needed."
Surgien curled up on a dusty couch, muttering, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to—"
Zev kicked him lightly. "You'll live."
Genrihk stared at the window, the storm reflecting in his hollow eyes.
"Kersnik. Malicer. Kraustein… Something is stirring. Something old."
Netoshka tightened her gloves, staring down at the map glowing on Ginny's tablet.
"Then we'll put it down."
She lifted her head, voice firm, commanding:
"Inferius Squad — rest, recover, rearm.
At dawn… we head for Cerevra City."