Zara adjusted her crimson jacket, brushing off a layer of dust that had clung to it from the underground chambers. The vibrant red seemed almost defiant in a world of ash and ruin, but it was intentional. Zara had never been one to blend into the background—her presence demanded attention, and in moments , it became a silent declaration of strength.
Marcus leaned back against a stone pillar, arms crossed as his dark eyes studied Zara. "That outfit of yours doesn't scream 'stealth.' You're either brave or reckless."
Zara smirked, her fingers gliding over the reinforced seams of her gloves. "I prefer the term 'prepared.' Now, about that problem you mentioned."
Rowan shifted beside her, his gaze darting between Marcus and the scattered survivors who hung back near the fire. He didn't trust this setup, and neither did Zara, but they didn't have the luxury of walking away.
Marcus pushed off the pillar and began pacing, his boots crunching against the dirt floor. "There's a sector up ahead we've sealed off. Something... different moved in. Fast, smart, and vicious. It's picking us off one by one, and our weapons barely slow it down."
"Sounds like a mutant," Rowan muttered, his brow furrowing.
"Not just any mutant," Marcus corrected. "This one's evolved. It stalks us, plays with us. We need someone who can outsmart it—and that's where you come in, Kincaid."
Zara met Marcus's gaze, unflinching. "You want us to hunt it down?"
"Kill it," Marcus clarified. "Do that, and I'll personally lead you to the nearest exit. Otherwise..." He gestured vaguely to the survivors. "You're welcome to join the waiting game until it finds us."
Zara glanced at Rowan, who gave her a reluctant nod. She turned back to Marcus. "Fine. We'll deal with your monster. But if you're holding back any details, now's the time to share them."
Marcus hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It's attracted to light," he admitted. "And noise. We tried luring it out before, but it's too damn clever. It retreats before we can land a solid hit."
Zara's mind raced. A creature drawn to light and sound, too agile for brute force. This wasn't going to be a straightforward kill. She flexed her gloved hands, a plan forming.
"Get me a map of the area," she demanded. "And any explosives you have left."
Marcus raised an eyebrow but motioned for one of his people to comply. Within moments, Zara was examining a crude sketch of the tunnels, marking potential choke points.
Rowan leaned in, his voice low. "You're thinking of trapping it?"
"More like cornering it," Zara replied. "If it's as smart as Marcus says, we'll need to outthink it. But first, we bait it."
She slipped off her gloves, revealing a small device embedded in her wrist—a signal emitter she'd salvaged weeks ago. She activated it, a faint pulse of light flashing steadily.
Marcus frowned. "What's that?"
"Something loud enough to draw its attention," Zara said. "Now, let's give it a reason to come to us."