The ruins of Blacksite Theta burned.
Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook moved like a phantom through the wreckage, his pistol still warm from the execution of Dr. Sylvia Voss. Her corpse lay somewhere in the control room, eyes lifeless, her twisted ambitions shattered by his hand.
But the war wasn't over.
It all led to this moment.
General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger.
The mastermind. The tyrant. The architect of this undead nightmare.
Rook ascended the last set of stairs toward the rooftop. The night sky above was split with gunfire and lightning. The final battle had begun.
The heavy steel door groaned as he pushed through. And there he was.
Kruger stood at the edge of the rooftop, back turned, watching the chaos below. His red beret was pristine, his uniform untainted by blood, as if he were untouched by the war he created.
"You're late, Sergeant," Kruger said without turning.
Rook raised his gun. "You already know why I'm here."
Kruger chuckled. "Of course." He finally turned, and Rook could see it—his skin, pale, almost inhuman. His veins pulsed unnaturally. Voss had experimented on him, too.
"She betrayed me," Kruger admitted, rolling his shoulders. "Tried to control me. But I was always the superior one."
Rook's grip on the pistol tightened. "You were never superior. Just another monster."
Kruger smiled. "Then come kill me, soldier."
He moved faster than Rook expected. A blur of muscle and rage. Rook barely dodged the first strike, rolling to the side as Kruger's gloved fist cracked the concrete where he had stood.
Rook fired—two shots to the chest.
Kruger barely flinched.
"You'll have to do better."
With inhuman speed, Kruger closed the gap, his fist catching Rook in the ribs. The force sent him slamming into a ventilation unit. Pain flared through his body, but he forced himself up.
No retreat. No surrender.
Kruger came again, but this time, Rook was ready. He sidestepped, slashed with his combat knife, drawing dark blood across Kruger's side.
The general grinned. "Not bad."
He struck. Rook dodged. Knife met flesh.
They fought like animals. Brutal. Precise. Deadly.
But Kruger had the advantage. Enhanced strength. Durability. A monster in human skin.
He caught Rook by the throat, lifting him off the ground. "You could've been great," Kruger whispered.
Rook spat blood. "I'd rather die."
Kruger smirked. "That can be arranged."
But then—an explosion from below.
The ground trembled. The facility's self-destruct sequence had begun.
Kruger's eyes flickered, just for a second.
Rook took his chance.
With everything he had left, he drove his knife straight into Kruger's heart.
The general's eyes went wide. Shock. Rage. Pain.
Rook twisted the blade. "Burn in hell."
Kruger stumbled back… but he did not fall.