The Hunters in the Tunnels

The motion sensor feed displayed four figures moving in tight formation through the tunnel. Military-grade weapons, tactical gear, and deliberate movements.

These weren't gangsters or scavengers.

This was Project Horizon.

In Endless Ruin, they had been introduced months after the collapse, a secret paramilitary group that used advanced technology and brutal tactics to seize control of resources and key locations.

But they weren't supposed to be active this early.

And they were here. In my tunnels.

I shifted my attention to the thermal scanner feed. The four men were clearing the tunnel systematically, sweeping corners with precision.

These guys were professionals.

I took a slow breath. My heartbeat steadied. [Hypermind] kicked into overdrive, processing the situation like a chessboard with moving pieces.

Four targets.✔ Two with standard-issue M4 carbines—short-range but accurate.✔ One with a designated marksman rifle—potential overwatch.✔ One with a compact shotgun and a thermal scanner—the real threat.

They didn't know my exact location yet. But the guy with the thermal scanner was about to change that.

I glanced around the room, assessing available tools.

✔ EMP Mine – Unarmed but functional.✔ Shock Gauntlets – Fully charged.✔ Arc Baton – Medium charge left.✔ Plasma Rifle Prototype – Unstable but operational.

The plasma rifle was risky; the coils hadn't been fully heat-tested, and if it overheated, I'd end up with a scorched arm—or worse.

But against Project Horizon soldiers, half-measures wouldn't cut it.

I grabbed the EMP mine and positioned it near the corner junction of the tunnel. Tripwire trigger—armed.

Then I took cover behind an old generator, plasma rifle braced against my shoulder.

The soldiers advanced, moving with practiced efficiency.

Click-click-click.

The sound of their boots echoed through the concrete tunnel.

The one with the thermal scanner paused, sweeping the walls. His visor had a faint red glow, tracking heat signatures.

I held my breath.

His scanner passed over the generator and hesitated.

He knew someone was here.

He raised a hand in a silent signal. The others spread out, aiming their weapons at my cover.

The tripwire was only five feet away from him.

He took one more step.

CLICK.

The EMP mine detonated with a sharp crack, sending out an electromagnetic pulse that fried every electronic device within twenty meters.

The thermal scanner short-circuited, sparking violently. The soldiers' communication headsets died instantly.

"Shit!" one of them yelled.

I stepped out and fired the plasma rifle.

THOOM!

The weapon discharged a glowing bolt of blue plasma, searing through the air and vaporizing the soldier with the scanner.

His chest exploded into molten slag, and he collapsed with a wet hiss, the stench of burnt flesh filling the tunnel.

The other three dived for cover, firing blindly.

Bullets whizzed past me, ricocheting off the walls. The plasma rifle's coils glowed red-hot—it needed time to cool.

I crouched low, switching to my Glock 19.

One soldier popped up from behind a stack of old concrete slabs, his rifle aimed at my chest.

BANG! BANG!

I fired first.

Two rounds hit his throat.

Blood sprayed across the wall as he collapsed with a guttural gurgle, clutching his neck.

The second soldier charged forward, shotgun ready.

I activated the shock gauntlets and met him halfway.

He fired—BOOM!—the pellets ripped into my vest, knocking me back.

The impact was like being hit by a sledgehammer, but the armor held.

Before he could rack the next shell, I grabbed the shotgun's barrel with my left hand and slammed my electrified fist into his face.

BZZZT!

The electricity surged through his skull, making him convulse violently.

His eyes rolled back as blood and foam spilled from his mouth.

I twisted the shotgun free and fired it into his chest.

His torso exploded backward, spraying the tunnel wall.

The final operative was smarter.

He didn't panic.

He moved deeper into the tunnel, setting up a defensive position behind a steel support column.

I ducked behind a pile of concrete blocks and peeked around the corner.

He was waiting.

My mind raced.

He expects me to peek again from this side.

I slid the Arc Baton from my belt, activated its silent mode, and lobbed it toward the opposite side of the tunnel.

The baton hit the ground with a faint clink.

The soldier shifted his aim toward the noise.

That was his mistake.

I vaulted over the concrete block and shot him twice.

BANG! BANG!

The rounds punched through his tactical vest, and he dropped, groaning.

I walked over, kicking his rifle away.

He was still conscious, coughing up blood through his broken ribs.

I knelt beside him.

"Who sent you?" I asked.

He said nothing.

I pressed my shock gauntlet to his exposed neck and cranked the voltage to max.

BZZZZZT!

He screamed through clenched teeth, body arching off the ground. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

"Who sent you?" I repeated.

"...Project...Horizon..." he gasped.

"I know that. Who gave the order?"

"…C-Captain Riker... Subdivision... Omega Cell…."

Riker. That name wasn't in the novel. Something had changed.

"What's your objective?" I asked.

His eyes darted toward the plasma rifle on my back.

"The... tech... your tech... too dangerous... we were told to... eliminate you."

They knew about my tech.

I tightened my grip on his neck. "How?"

"We... intercepted data... from your scavenging runs... you've been flagged as... a potential disruptor."

I stared into his eyes. He was terrified.

I pressed the gauntlet harder.

"How many more?"

"More squads... coming soon... orders to secure... you or kill you..."

I nodded once.

Then I snapped his neck

I dragged the bodies into a side tunnel and covered them with old tarps.

Then I collected their weapons:

✔ Two M4 carbines – Standard issue but reliable.✔ One marksman rifle – Semi-automatic, long-range optics.✔ One shotgun – Tactical, semi-auto.

I also took their radio equipment—damaged by the EMP, but salvageable.

Back in my lab, I dismantled the gear and scanned the data logs.

Project Horizon had been monitoring my movements for at least two weeks.

They knew I had been building advanced tech.

And now they were sending more teams to hunt me down.

I needed to move the base to Fort Valor—the abandoned military site outside the city.

But first, I needed to figure out how to kill superhumans.

The mutation wave was getting worse.

Reports on the police scanner described:

Dog packs growing larger and more aggressive.Crows attacking people in organized swarms.Rats with teeth sharp enough to chew through concrete.

And that was just the beginning.

On March 15th, at midnight, everyone would awaken powers—and some would mutate beyond recognition.

I opened my survival manual and flipped to the section labeled:

Known Mutant Types

Stalkers:✔ Agile, stealthy, echolocation-based hunting tactics.✔ Sensitive to ultrasonic frequencies.✔ Vulnerable to high-voltage electricity.

Brutes:✔ Large, heavily muscled, strong enough to tear down walls.✔ Tough hide, bullet-resistant.✔ Vulnerable to high-caliber rounds and thermal attacks.

Evolved Alphas:✔ Hyper-intelligent mutant variants.✔ Capable of pack coordination.✔ Weak point: brain stem.

I needed weapons specialized for each type.

Starting with high-heat plasma rounds to handle Brutes.

The battle with Project Horizon had cost me time and resources, but it also gave me insight.

✔ They were afraid of my technology.✔ They underestimated how quickly I could adapt.✔ They were planning something bigger.

I set my alarm for 5 a.m., took off my gear, and lay down on the makeshift cot in the corner of the lab.

In three days, the world would collapse.