Story 685: Shadow of the Tyrant

The air was thick with smoke, the scent of blood and gunpowder mingling in the ruins of the battlefield. Kruger stood tall, his body pulsing with unnatural energy, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dark. The serum meant to kill him had only transformed him further.

Sergeant Rook could barely process what he was seeing. His commander, his leader—his monster—was no longer just a man. He had transcended.

Behind Rook, what remained of the resistance was in retreat. Eva Morales was barely conscious, Reaper-77 lay motionless in the debris, and the undead enforcers were scattered like broken dolls.

Kruger turned his gaze towards the last remaining opposition. His lips curled.

"Still standing, Rook?"

Rook swallowed. "I was trained to."

Kruger chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver through even his own soldiers.

"Then let's see if you die just as well."

Before Kruger could advance, a powerful voice echoed through the ruins.

"Stand down, Viktor."