The West Block was nothing but a crater of fire and rubble. Smoke spiraled into the night sky, embers flickering like dying stars. The air reeked of charred metal, burning flesh, and the bitter tang of explosives.
From a nearby vantage point, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook lowered his binoculars, his jaw clenched. "Damn it," he muttered. The explosion had been powerful—too powerful, even for someone like Kruger.
"General, respond," Rook barked into his earpiece. Static.
A low growl rumbled in his throat. He turned to the squad of undead enforcers behind him. "Fan out. If he's alive, find him. If not—" His eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Retrieve whatever's left."
The undead, bound to Kruger's will even in his possible demise, lurched forward, sifting through the smoldering debris like mindless scavengers.
A slab of blackened steel shifted amidst the rubble.
Then, a hand—muscled, scorched, yet still alive—burst free.
A guttural snarl followed as General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger pulled himself from the wreckage, his uniform scorched, his vest shredded, but his eyes burning with fury. His red beret, dirtied and torn, still clung to his head. His enhanced body had absorbed most of the blast, but he could feel something… different.
Something awakening inside him.
He rolled his shoulders. Pain. Anger. Power.
Kruger exhaled smoke, steam rising from his burned flesh as his regenerative abilities rapidly mended his wounds.
Her name was the first thought that cut through the rage. She had done this. The arrogance to think she could kill him.
His fingers curled into fists.
Not only was he still alive—he was stronger than before.
Eva "Black Widow" Morales stumbled through an abandoned corridor, her left arm bleeding from shrapnel wounds. Her detonation had been a desperate gamble—one that should have left Kruger in pieces. But deep inside, she knew.
That monster wasn't dead.
A radio crackled in her ear. "Morales, do you copy?"
She pressed a hand to her earpiece, breathing heavily. "I'm here."
"You detonated the charge," the voice on the other end said. "Did it work?"
Eva glanced back toward the distant flames, her grip tightening on her combat knife. "Not sure yet."
"Then assume the worst."
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
A new kind of horror was about to be unleashed.
Rook and his undead halted as Kruger stepped forward from the flames.
For the first time in years, Rook felt something he had long buried—fear.
Kruger's eyes glowed crimson. His body pulsed with a dark energy.
The blast hadn't just failed to kill him.
It had made him evolve.