The air was thick with smoke, the scent of blood and gunpowder mingling in the ruins of the battlefield. Kruger stood tall, his body pulsing with unnatural energy, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dark. The serum meant to kill him had only transformed him further.
Sergeant Rook could barely process what he was seeing. His commander, his leader—his monster—was no longer just a man. He had transcended.
Behind Rook, what remained of the resistance was in retreat. Eva Morales was barely conscious, Reaper-77 lay motionless in the debris, and the undead enforcers were scattered like broken dolls.
Kruger turned his gaze towards the last remaining opposition. His lips curled.
"Still standing, Rook?"
Rook swallowed. "I was trained to."
Kruger chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver through even his own soldiers.
"Then let's see if you die just as well."
Before Kruger could advance, a powerful voice echoed through the ruins.
"Stand down, Viktor."
For the first time in a long time—Kruger paused.
From the shadows of the wreckage, a tall figure emerged. Clad in a heavy green military coat, adorned with old insignias of a long-forgotten war, the man walked with the authority of a legend. His face was lined with age, but his eyes…
They were colder than Kruger's.
Sergeant Rook felt his stomach drop.
He had heard whispers. Stories of a warlord who had trained the Overlord himself.
General Vasily Petrov.
Kruger's expression shifted from amusement to thinly veiled hostility. His fingers twitched at his side. A reflex.
"Petrov." The name left his lips like a curse. "I thought you were dead."
Petrov's boots crushed broken glass beneath them as he stepped forward. **"And I thought you were better than this."**His tone was devoid of praise.
The two men locked eyes.
Master and apprentice.
Kruger clenched his fists. The urge to tear Petrov apart was immediate, instinctive—but something held him back.
Petrov stopped a few feet away, calm and unshaken.
"You've lost sight of the war, Viktor."
Kruger bared his teeth. "I AM the war."
Petrov sighed, as if speaking to a disobedient child.
"No, you're just another piece on the board. And I'm here to remind you who taught you the game."
Kruger's fingers twitched again.
The battlefield was silent.
But Petrov was faster.
A blur of movement. A shift in weight. A single strike.
Kruger staggered back.
For the first time in years—someone had landed a hit on the Overlord.
And from the look in Petrov's eyes…
It wouldn't be the last.