The bright sun had nearly lost its strength. Its final rays, trapped behind thick clouds, cast a dying light over a land long buried in death.
Amid the desolate scenery, a single sign of motion cut through the silence—a large military Humr roaring across the uneven road, its engine growling like a beast as it split wind and dust alike.
"We will arrive at the destination in approximately 30 minutes," Derek announced tensely from the driver’s seat.
They had been on the road for over five hours without incident. No obstacles, no interruptions. Just forward motion toward the place where many of their comrades had fallen. Soon, they would reach what remained of it.
While the rest of the five-person unit made final preparations and suppressed their thoughts, Adyr showed no change.
Like a hunter waiting for the season to open, he was simply conserving his focus.
The minutes passed in silence until rooftops began to appear on the horizon. As the view cleared, Adyr studied the scene ahead.
It was far from a small settlent. The livable area was small, yes—but it stood atop the ruins of what had once been a vast, towering city. Buildings that had once reached toward the clouds now lay flattened, their fras twisted and buried beneath layers of broken stone and ash.
Nothing remained but fragnts—shattered foundations and jagged silhouettes barely poking through the ground.
In their place, clusters of makeshift shelters had been scattered across the wreckage. They were built from scavenged tal, plastic sheets, and salvaged concrete slabs. Crude, uneven, and patched together from whatever could be found—but stable enough to keep the wind out and the cold from killing you overnight. Just enough to survive.
As the Humr drew closer, the area seed empty. But once the engine echoed through the ruins, curious eyes began to erge.
Faces appeared behind broken windows patched with whatever material could be found. The vehicle turned onto a dust-choked street, rolling slowly between buildings. From behind cracks, holes, and shattered glass, people watched.
Adyr scanned the faces.
Many showed visible signs of genetic deformation—likely the result of an unstable mutation. The more human-looking among them were almost all elderly.
And in every pair of eyes, he saw the sa thing: uncertainty and fear.
"We’ve arrived at the target," Derek reported, breaking the silence.
The Humr slowed, then ca to a stop.
Ahead, several vehicles were parked in a loose formation—clearly part of a previous convoy. So were completely wrecked, windows shattered, and doors and tires missing, as if torn apart by sothing feral. Others were in better shape but still abandoned. Stripped. Empty.
From the front seat, Kara turned and addressed Adyr.
"This was the first unit sent in. They were transporting personnel from the Angel Wing Foundation when the attack began."
Then she turned her attention to the team and issued the next set of orders.
"We dismount here and begin the sweep. Observe the site. Docunt everything. If you find anything—evidence, tech fragnts, movent patterns—report it. If needed, you’re authorized to speak with locals. Do not engage. Avoid direct confrontation. Maintain constant comms. If anything feels off, pull back and await instructions. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain," the entire team, including Adyr, responded in unison.
"Good. Now move," Kara ordered.
Everyone exited the vehicle with practiced caution, stepping into the silent, half-dead zone.
According to the latest reports, the terrorist group had withdrawn after the confrontation. No recent activity had been confird, and the area had been flagged as safe.
But in a region ruled by chaos, safety was always temporary. Everyone remained on high alert.
The group first approached the abandoned and devastated convoy.
"I know first-generation mutants are strong... but this?" Said a blond woman with a ponytail, stunned as she docunted the wreckage with a military-grade cara.
The vehicles looked as if they had been torn apart by so beast. tal fras were twisted and ripped open like paper, as if clawed apart with bare hands.
"I heard this Cannibal guy is special. And his minions, too. Is this so kind of new mutation?" Derek added while inspecting the wreckage, glancing briefly at Adyr as he spoke. After all, Adyr was considered a new type of mutant himself.
"They must have used so kind of weapon, right? Maybe pressure-based explosives?" Another mber offered a professional assessnt.
While the others carried out their work professionally, Adyr remained silent and focused.
Every detail that caught his eye, every scent carried by the air, every shift in the dust against his skin—each one spoke to him.
Thanks to his high [Sense] stat, the scene began to reconstruct itself in his mind.
The wrecked vehicles straightened. Shattered glass pulled itself back into place. Doors reford. Bullet holes vanished. Engines humd with latent power. The silhouettes of missing passengers returned—faces blurred, but their body language unmistakable. Breathing. Waiting.
The convoy moved again.
Adyr was no longer standing in the aftermath. He was inside the mont—seconds before it all unraveled.
"16 attackers," he said, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. "No weapons. No equipnt. Just bodies and raw strength."
The team stopped what they were doing and looked at him.
"What?" Derek asked, one brow lifted.
Adyr didn’t respond. His mind was still watching the ambush unfold.
Four figures—mutants—stepped onto the road ahead of the convoy. Their features were indistinct, but their mass and posture were clear. They forced the vehicles to stop. Seconds later, twelve more erged from the rubble on both sides, converging with coordinated precision.
"The first strike was here," Adyr said, pointing to the most heavily damaged Humr. "A heavy object shattered the windshield..."
He paused, then corrected himself.
"No. Just a fist. One punch broke the glass and pulled the driver out."
"You’re saying soone shattered ballistic glass—with a single punch?" one of the team mbers asked, unable to hide his disbelief.
Breaking such reinforced glass was theoretically possible—for a mutant like STF operatives—but it would take dozens of strikes. What he was describing sounded like a myth.
Adyr didn’t react to the doubt. He simply continued.
"The one who launched the first strike was the strongest among them," he said, stepping forward until he stood over dried bloodstains on the ground. "He took seven... no, eight—nine bullets to the chest and neck. And he stayed on his feet."
Adyr furrowed his brow.
Even for him, that detail stood out. The blurred face in his mind began to sharpen.
"During the first engagent... Cannibal was here. He led the attack himself."
His voice was calm and cold, but this ti, his face wasn’t blank.
He was smiling.
In his mind’s eye, Cannibal stood across from him, grinning, eyes locked, provoking him.
The first contact had been made.
Not direct. But it was enough.
While the group watched him, silently wondering if he had lost his mind, Adyr turned to Captain Kara.
"I’ll separate from the team here. I’ll circle the area, speak with a few locals, then proceed toward the objective," he said, delivering the short update with calm clarity.
Kara paused briefly, then gave a slight nod.
"Understood. You’ve received the orders and know the procedures. Good luck," she replied, her voice steady and professional.
The others said nothing, but their eyes followed him. Quiet glances, subtle nods—a silent send-off.
They watched as his figure slowly faded into the ruins.
The mission he had taken on bordered on impossible. No one said it out loud, but the thought lingered in every mind.
This might be the last ti they saw him.
They didn’t know it then, but they had never been more wrong.
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