Story 644: No Room for the Weak

The factory's skeletal remains creaked under the weight of the storm outside. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted steel beams and rusted machinery, momentarily casting long shadows over the carnage below. General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger stood at the center of the slaughter, his combat knife dripping with blackened, necrotic blood. His crimson beret remained untouched, a symbol of his iron will amid the chaos.

Behind him, the bodies of Wolfe’s Flesh Revenants twitched and spasmed, their broken forms still trying to rise. Kruger sneered. Even in death, they defied him.

A low, mechanical growl filled the air.

Kruger turned, his grip tightening around his knife. The Revenant was still standing. Its cybernetic enhancements hissed, pumping unknown stimulants through its rotting veins. Sparks crackled from its armored plating where bullets had failed to penetrate. It was a walking fortress of flesh and steel.