Story 667: Blood on the Horizon

The sun bled across the horizon, casting an ominous glow over the battlefield. General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger stood motionless, his gaze locked on the ruined city ahead. The scent of charred flesh and gunpowder lingered in the dry air, mingling with the distant groans of the undead.

His forces had crushed the last human encampment in the region, yet something felt… incomplete. Victory was inevitable, but defiance still lingered in the embers of the fallen resistance. The survivors were scattered, weakened—but not broken.

Behind him, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook approached, his boots crunching against the debris. "Scouts report remnants regrouping in the eastern sector," he muttered, wiping blood from his combat knife. "Small in numbers, but desperate."

Kruger’s expression remained unreadable. "Desperation breeds recklessness."

Rook smirked. "So do cornered animals. Should we crush them?"