Rising from the Ruins

The battle had ended, but the scars remained.

Smoke curled into the sky from the ruined defenses, mingling with the scent of blood and scorched earth. The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the occasional groan of the wounded and the crackle of dying embers. Bodies lay scattered, some motionless, others barely clinging to life. The once fortified positions were now nothing more than shattered stone and twisted metal. The air was thick with dust and the acrid stench of burned materials.

You forced yourself to move, limbs heavy with exhaustion. Each step felt like trudging through a nightmare, a grim reminder of how close you had come to annihilation. Around you, survivors stumbled through the wreckage, searching for the fallen, tending to the injured, and salvaging what little remained. Some murmured prayers to forgotten gods, while others simply stared blankly at the ruins of what had once been a stronghold.

Plavo sat nearby, his wrist device flickering with unread messages. He looked up as you approached, his face a mix of relief and frustration. His normally energetic demeanor was subdued, his small frame hunched over as if the weight of the battle had drained him entirely.

"We barely made it," he muttered. "If they come back..."

You knew what he meant. The creatures had retreated, but for how long? The enemy had proven their resilience, and the monsters that had descended upon the battlefield had been relentless. Your forces had struggled to defend themselves, caught off guard and ill-prepared, while the opposing side had managed to push through their attackers with calculated precision. It was clear who held the advantage.

The General limped toward you, his armor dented, a deep gash running down his arm. His face was lined with exhaustion, yet his eyes remained sharp. "We need to regroup," he said, voice steady despite his injuries. "Rebuild. If we don't, we won't survive the next attack."

More soldiers and crew trickled in, dragging the wounded or carrying whatever supplies they could salvage. The atmosphere was grim, yet determination still burned in the eyes of those who remained. Some had lost friends, others had lost everything, but no one spoke of surrender. This planet, as desolate and hostile as it was, had become the last hope for survival. There was no turning back now.

You glanced up at the sky, where the last traces of smoke twisted into the atmosphere. Somewhere out there, new dangers loomed, watching and waiting. But for now, you had one task—survive.

There was no time to waste. The battle for survival was far from over.