Story 668: The Blackened Tide

The echoes of gunfire had long since faded, leaving only the crackling of flames and the wet gurgles of the dying. The industrial sector was a graveyard now, littered with bodies—some human, some not.

General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger stood atop a broken barricade, surveying the aftermath. The resistance had fought fiercely, but their last stand had ended in predictable ruin. Smoke curled from the barrel of his pistol, the final bullet having silenced Commander Elias Voss.

He turned to Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook, who was wiping blood from his blade with the ease of a man accustomed to slaughter.

"Any stragglers?" Kruger’s voice was low, measured.

Rook grinned, his canine-like scars twisting with the motion. "A few rats scurrying in the tunnels beneath the refinery. Nothing our Reapers can’t handle."

Kruger nodded. "Send Reaper-77 to flush them out. No mercy."

Rook saluted before vanishing into the smoke, eager to carry out his orders.