Chapter 4: The General's Wrath

The aftermath of the cult's foiled attack left Ethan and his covert unit working tirelessly to contain the spread of the infection and track its source. Command airlifted medical and research support while he coordinated on the ground. Yet despite all precautions, with each passing day, more people fell victim as the pathogen mutated unpredictably.

Ethan labored without rest, putting his own well-being aside to comfort the afflicted and oversee operations. Even still, a gnawing sense of culpability gripped him—the contamination had erupted due to his bungled extraction, endangering the countless lives he was sworn to protect.

Late one evening, a coded transmission arrived from Langley with unsettling news. Through intercepted communications, they traced the pathogen back to its architect, a biological weapons specialist turned renegade known only as Ernesh, now elevated to leadership of the entire cult themselves.

Any doubts about the enemy's true malicious nature dissolved upon learning of this monster's handiwork. Ernesh sought instability above all else, sacrificing untold masses to further some deranged vision. Ethan realized the threat they faced had grown far beyond anything anticipated.

His thoughts turned dark as he contemplated the justice this fiend deserved. But vengeance could wait; for now, the people's wellbeing came first. Ethan responded to Command, pledging to redouble efforts at containing the outbreak, even if it cost him everything to see it achieved. Survival was a luxury that few in this city still possessed.

That night, while on patrol throughout quarantine zones, Ethan noticed suspicious movement in the peripheries. Veering his vehicle off-route into dingy back alleys, he emerged to find evidence of a skirmish: upturned trash, signs of struggle, and streaks of blood on decrepit walls slowly dissolving in the drizzle.

Drawing his sidearm, Ethan listened intently for any clue. Just then, a guttural cry sounded from an unseen courtyard, followed by sickening cracks of improvised weapons meeting flesh. He burst through a rusted gate into a nightmare scene of inhuman savagery.

Towering, bleeding-eyed aberrations that might once have been human flailed upon several huddled figures on the soaked pavement, savagely mauling the wounded with fang and talon. Ethan opened fire immediately, dropping two horrors before the rest turned rabidly upon him with preternatural speed.

In that confined space, every shot had to count against such crazed, superhuman strength and endurance. Ethan executed flawless maneuvers honed through years of urban combat, firing precisely aimed bursts that felled one beast after another until only he remained standing amidst a graveyard of twisted, dissolving corpses dissolving into ooze.

Rushing to the huddled survivors, he found an elderly man and young boy clinging to life despite grievous wounds. Ethan carried them carefully to the Evac vehicle, applying emergency first aid and prayer over their mangled forms. Speeding through the downpour, he radioed ahead, requesting an emergency medical team meet them.

Though antibiotics and transfusions fought relentlessly, by dawn the grandfather had passed, but the boy clung doggedly to life, even regaining consciousness long enough to grasp Ethan's hand and whisper a hoarse word of thanks before slipping back under. In those small victories and losses, the battle's cost was etched starkly in Ethan's soul.

That evening, as he rested briefly in camp, a covert transmission arrived on his secure line—unknown figures had breached the perimeter under the cover of night. Ethan grabbed his sidearm and crept silently into the gloom between tents, listening intently until footsteps approached from the rain.

Two robed shapes materialized, bearing heavy assault rifles, one training its weapon steadily on Ethan while the other addressed him in gravelly tones. "The General requests your presence, soldier. Come willingly, and no harm needs to come to your comrades here."

Ethan leveled his pistol resolutely. "I don't take orders from terrorists or their ilk. State your business civilly, or turn back now before things turn ugly."

A guttural chuckle answered. "The general always gets what he wants in the end. But perhaps we'll greet again under...friendlier terms."

They melted back into the downpour, leaving an omen hanging thick in the damp air. Ethan knew Ernesh had issued a gauntlet, and the hunter had now become the hunted in this macabre game unfolding in the storm-swept streets of a dying city.