The stone chamber was dimly lit, the torches flickering against the damp, aged walls. General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger stood in quiet contemplation, his muscular arms crossed, his head slightly lowered. It had been too long since he had allowed himself a moment —a moment where the chaos of war was silent.
And yet, the war still echoed in his mind.
Behind him, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook entered the chamber, his boots clicking against the cold stone. He stopped a few feet away, sensing that Kruger was lost in thought. Even the ever-brutal Rook knew better than to disturb his general when he was .
Finally, after a long pause, Kruger spoke.
"Do you ever wonder, Rook, what we were before all of this?"
Rook hesitated, then let out a sharp breath. "Before? I was nothing. Just another soldier following orders that meant nothing. And now? Now we fight for something greater."
Kruger slowly turned his head, his scarred face partially hidden by shadow. He studied Rook for a moment before exhaling through his nose.
"I used to believe that too."
Rook furrowed his brow. "Sir?"
Kruger turned away again, his grip tightening on his own arms. "Every step I take forward, I feel the past clawing at me. I feel the man I was trying to drag me back."
The words were uncharacteristic of him, but Kruger had felt the change growing within himself. Ever since Dr. Sylvia "Plague Mistress" Voss had introduced the new variant of the serum into his system, he had been feeling something different. Something deeper.
Rook straightened. "Sir, the resistance is growing bolder. We've received reports that their forces are beginning to consolidate near the old ruins. If they're planning a counteroffensive—"
"They will fail," Kruger cut in, his voice as cold as steel.
Rook nodded, satisfied. "Then what are your orders?"
Kruger exhaled slowly, uncrossing his arms and finally standing to his full height. He turned fully to face Rook, his golden eyes glinting with something dark, something unreadable.
"Send out the Reapers. Let them see the price of their defiance."
Rook smirked. "With pleasure."
As the sergeant turned to leave, Kruger lingered in the chamber a moment longer, his thoughts drifting once more to the past. A past he was starting to forget—one that no longer seemed to belong to him.
His fingers instinctively brushed over the scar running down his face. The pain was long gone, but the memory remained.
Just as the man he once was faded further into the abyss.
Kruger straightened his shoulders, brushing aside the moment of reflection. There was no past anymore. Only war. Only conquest.
And soon, there would be nothing left but his rule.