Story 687: Ashes of the Past

The smoke had yet to settle.

Flames licked at the rubble-strewn battlefield, casting an eerie glow against the bloodstained horizon. The missile strike had obliterated everything in its path, leaving behind only silence and the stench of burning flesh.

Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook coughed as he pulled himself free from the debris, his body aching from the force of the blast. His earpiece crackled.

"Rook… report."

Kruger’s voice.

Rook turned, scanning the devastation. His breath hitched. The general was gone.

And standing in the middle of the destruction, unmoving, was Vasily Petrov.

A silhouette against the fire, the old warlord dusted ash from his shoulder, his expression unreadable. His uniform was torn, but he remained standing.

Rook's grip tightened on his rifle. This man had done what no one else ever could.

He had made Kruger disappear.