THE THREAT ADVANCES

Somewhere...
A vast white blanket covered the landscape—silent, desolate.
But among the pristine purity of the snow... unnatural footprints remained.

Huge.
Deep.
Burning.

Each step melted the ice beneath it, leaving behind a trail of vapor that rose like a sigh from hell itself.
Moving at a slow pace, the Primordial Beast made its way through the bare trees, its black skin radiating an impossible heat.

A few meters away, hidden in the forest shadows, a pack of massive white wolves watched in silence.
Their eyes gleamed with hunger...
...but also with hesitation.

Instinct urged them to attack.
Instinct... and fear, held them back.

As they got close enough to smell the biological stench of the creature, their reaction was immediate.

—AWOO! AWOO! AWOO! —they howled, not as a hunting call, but a warning cry.

One by one, the wolves fled with tails between their legs, vanishing into the snow as if they had never been there.
Only the beast remained.
Advancing.
With purpose.

Back at Mikhail’s base...
Three days had passed since Team Alpha returned.
Three days since the mission that changed everything.

Alexei was feeling better, though he still walked with difficulty.
Each step came with the support of a crutch Grigori had lent him.
Pain had become just another companion.

Nikolai, for his part, also showed signs of physical recovery... at least outwardly.
But his gaze was no longer the same.
Since they got back, he avoided contact with others.
He isolated himself.
Drank in silence from his flask, as if trying to drown something he couldn’t put into words.

Meanwhile, Vik was returning to base through one of the underground tunnels, flanked by Dasha and Artiom.
They had just finished a routine sweep.
A simple mission...
But each day, things felt less simple.

—That was a productive day —Dasha joked, stretching her neck with a crooked grin.

—Sure was —Artiom nodded, brushing dust from his shoulder—. More Ashes every time down there... and I don't like it one bit —he added, suddenly serious.

Vik stretched his arms, still feeling the strain in every fiber of his body.

—Lately the Ashes are acting weird... like they're agitated —he muttered, eyes on the ground, more to himself than to the others.

—You’re right —Artiom said, lowering his tone—. They’re usually just brainless wanderers. This is... different.

—Brainless like you, bro —Dasha jumped in, laughing out loud, her voice echoing through the tunnel walls.

Vik couldn’t help but laugh too at Artiom’s face.

—Yeah, yeah… but tell me, who’s the brainless one always saving your ass? —Artiom fired back in his usual cocky tone.

Dasha’s laugh was all the answer he needed.

Vik looked at both of them, smiling.
And for a moment...
...his mind betrayed him.

He thought of Anya.
How much he missed that kind of bond.
How similar their relationship had been...
...to the one these two shared.

—Viiiiiik!
A familiar voice shattered the calm of the tunnel, bouncing off the walls with strength.

Vik turned instantly—he recognized it right away.
It was Alexei.

Limping slightly, he was approaching with a confident grin... though he wasn’t alone.
Beside him, almost carrying him under the guise of casual support, was Katya, holding onto his bandaged arm.

—Well, look who finally got out of bed —Vik said with a half-smile, crossing his arms—. Took you long enough.

—Once I’m back to a hundred percent, we’ll see if you still talk like that —Alexei shot back with a playful smirk.

—Unbelievable... in that condition and still picking fights? —Katya added with a subtle smile on her lips.

Artiom stepped forward and offered his hand in camaraderie.

—Glad to see you, big guy.

—Same here —Dasha added with a warm look—. You had us worried, idiot.

—Takes more than that to bring me down! —Alexei boomed with laughter, puffing out his chest.

Katya then looked at him, brow furrowed.
It wasn’t anger...
It was worry.

The kind she couldn’t hide, no matter how firm her tone tried to sound.

—If you ever pull a stunt like that again... —she muttered, pressing her lips tight— I’ll be the one who finishes you off.

And with that, she gave him a light smack right on the bandaged arm.

—Ow, ow, ow! —Alexei cried, recoiling dramatically.

Vik, Dasha, and Artiom burst into laughter.

For a moment... it felt like things were normal again.

—Alright guys, I’m off to report our patrol to Mikhail. Catch you later —Artiom announced, raising a hand in farewell as he walked off down the tunnel.

—I’m taking Alexei back to the infirmary. He still needs to rest —Katya said firmly.

—But I feel fine... —Alexei grumbled.

—I said you need rest. And that’s what you’re going to do —Katya huffed, grabbing him by the ear.

—Ow, ow, ow! Okay, okay! I get it! —Alexei cried out between nervous chuckles, following her like a scolded kid.

Dasha watched them walk away with a wide smile.

—She’s got quite the temper, huh?

Vik nodded, his eyes still on Katya.

—She’s always like that... —he murmured in a brotherly tone—. She cares a lot about us.

Meanwhile...
Inside Commander Mikhail’s office...
The silence was thick—almost solid.

The only light came from a rusted desk lamp, barely illuminating the outline of an open metal case.
Inside, one of the prototypes.
Mikhail held it in his hands as if it had the power to end everything.

He turned it over and over, examining every detail, every line, every millimeter of the cylinder filled with violet liquid, which pulsed with an unsettling calm.
The smoke from his cigar rose in slow spirals, dancing in the tense air.

—What the hell am I supposed to do with this...? —he muttered, barely a whisper that vanished into the smoke.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Three firm knocks at the door startled him.

—Come in —he said immediately, quickly stashing the prototype back into the case and sealing it shut with a dry snap.

The door opened.

Anton stepped in with a determined stride, uniform crisp, face tense.

—Sir —he reported with a steady voice—, we’ve received reports of a large Theralux convoy on the move.

Mikhail raised an eyebrow, resting both elbows on the desk.

—Where to?

—Not certain... but it seems they’re headed our way —Anton said, and the tension in his voice did not go unnoticed.

A second of silence.

Then—the explosion.

—That’s impossible! —Mikhail roared, standing up violently—. What do you mean our way?

—I don’t know, sir. There’s nothing of strategic value in this region... just us.

—Goddammit... how many?

—According to the scout… twenty, sir.

Mikhail froze for a moment.

—Twenty fucking Theralux trucks are coming to our position?! —he bellowed, pushing his chair back with a bang.

—How long until they arrive?

—At least a day —Anton replied with precision—. It’s a massive convoy. They can’t move fast without giving themselves away.

Mikhail fell silent.
Tsssss...
The click of his cigar broke the stillness.

His mind calculated, processed, adjusted every possible scenario.
Finally, he spoke, voice deep and direct.

—If it’s true they’re coming here... we have to get ready.
Gather all available men. Send them to the armory.
Civilians... move them to a safe zone. I want no one exposed.

He paused, eyes locked on his second-in-command.

—Check the perimeter defenses. And tell Igor that damn electric trap needs to be working today. Got it?

—Sir, yes sir! —Anton barked, saluting stiffly before leaving the office at a brisk pace.

Mikhail sat back down, the leather creaking beneath his weight.
He brought the cigar to his lips, inhaled deeply...
...and exhaled.

The smoke cloaked him like a fog of war.

—Goddammit... right now, of all times... —he muttered—.
What does Theralux want from us...?
Could it be... because of the prototypes?

The alarm didn’t take long to roar across the camp.
A piercing, prolonged sound tore through the air, echoing through every tunnel, every room, every corner of the base.

WOOOOOOOOO!

The reaction was immediate.

Anton led the charge, barking orders with a booming voice as he guided all available soldiers to the armory.
He pulled more in along the way: young men with fear in their eyes, and veterans with stares hardened by other wars.

He handed them rifles, vests, grenades—whatever they could carry.
Every second mattered.

—You, to the turret on the south wing! You, reinforce tunnel three! Move!

Vik and Dasha arrived like bullets, their steps pounding against the concrete.

—What’s going on, Anton? —Vik asked, breathing hard, chest rising and falling.

Anton didn’t even turn to answer.

—It’s Theralux, —he said while loading a rifle with practiced ease—. Looks like they’re paying us a visit...

—Theralux...? What the hell do they want with us? —Dasha asked, alert and confused.

—I don’t know... —Anton muttered, frowning—. But with the kind of numbers they’re bringing... I doubt it’s a friendly call.

Vik clenched his jaw, fury flickering in his eyes.

—Those bastards...

The entire base lit up like a beehive in wartime.

Soldiers organized the evacuation of civilians to the most secure area, deep in the complex.
Others doubled down on entry points.
One by one, critical zones were reinforced.

A young soldier in a helmet ran past, hauling ammo crates to the main entrance turrets.
Igor worked at full speed beside an electrical panel, sparks flying as he cursed under his breath.

Zzzzt!

A spark jumped—he didn’t even flinch.

In the mess hall, Grigori pulled an old rusty shotgun from beneath the counter.
He blew on it, wiped off the dust with his forearm, and grunted like it was an old routine he’d been waiting to resume.

At the command center, Mikhail gave out orders like a thunderstorm.
The weight of the base rested on him... and he bore it like a titan.

Vik and Dasha didn’t hesitate.
They ran straight to the infirmary to warn Alexei and Katya.
On the way, they ran into Artiom, who joined them immediately.

Inside the infirmary, things were already heating up.

—Let me go, dammit! I’m fine, I can fight! —Alexei growled, trying to stand on his own.

Katya was pushing him back onto the bed with both arms outstretched.

—You’re not going anywhere, Alexei. Not in that condition.

—Chill, big guy. We’ve got this one covered, —Vik said firmly, trying to calm him down.

—Exactly. I’m with them, —Artiom added, arms crossed with confidence—. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

Alexei looked at them, frustration eating away at him from the inside.
But his wounds didn’t lie.

He sighed... and dropped back onto the bed, defeated.

—You better all come back in one piece... —he muttered, hiding his concern behind a gruff voice filled with suppressed rage.

Katya lowered her gaze, then looked up again, eyes steady.

—I’m staying here with Alexei, —she said, voice soft but firm.

She didn’t want to leave him alone.
And at the same time...
She wanted to be out there.

Vik nodded. He knew it was the right call.
And he knew exactly how much it hurt her.

The entire base was bracing for the storm.
The tension was a pulled wire, ready to snap.
And time...
was working against them.

Elsewhere...
The sky was choked with thick clouds, and the air, dry and sharp, reeked of gunpowder and hot rubber.

Inside one of the armored vehicles, a Theralux soldier stared out the window with a worried expression.
He turned to his superior, doubt creeping into his voice.

—Lieutenant... do you think it was wise to leave that scout alive?

The reply came instantly.

—Doesn’t matter if they’re prepared, —came the firm, cold voice of Natasha—.
The outcome will be the same.

Her metallic eyes, with that faint crimson glow, never strayed from the small monitor in her gloved hand.
On the screen, a digital map.
A red dot blinked with surgical precision.

Right in the direction they were headed.

The convoy rolled forward.
Twenty war trucks.
Each armored. Each loaded with death.

The formation moved slowly... but relentlessly.
Like a colossal predator that didn’t need to run to catch its prey.

Inside, hundreds of Theralux soldiers waited for deployment.
Dressed in black uniforms, equipped with next-gen weapons, their helmets gleamed with red visors that burned like embers.

The roar of engines mingled with the hiss of the cold wind.
The asphalt trembled beneath the weight of the steel column.
The wheels crushed everything in their path, raising a thick cloud of dust that stretched behind them like an ominous tail.

A cloud of dust...
A signal of what was coming.

And at the very front of the convoy, in absolute silence, Natasha watched.

Calm.
Calculating.
Lethal.

Because to her...
This wasn’t a mission.

It was an execution.