I am not quite sure which factor it was; the stress of combat, the unnerving humming of the hovercraft, the blaring sirens, or the beeping of a heartbeat monitor. The latter certainly did a number on my hazy, unconscious mind, the shrill noise sounded out periodically. The sirens were loud and high-pitched, as they screamed away, tearing at my fragile mind. I didn't want to go back there, there was nothing but pain in those memories. And yet, as I was being lifted onto a stretcher, I felt my thoughts flicker.

Within the moment that I drew in a sharp inhale through cloth, I had completely forgotten all about the fact that I knew that this couldn't have been real. Like a dream, only much, much more real. Unlike last time, however, I was a little further back on that particular night. I looked around, spotting the familiar outlines of my team, all with our specialized uniforms. The plane rumbled and the lights turned from blue to red, prompting all of us to stand.

Our captain took a stroll down the hangar, along the two lines of operators, consisting of four and five, in total, this mission would take all ten. The g-forces of our flight tore at my posture, but I simply leaned against the wall to my left, while checking my weapon one last time. The modified M4 hung from my chest by a magnetic lining, while my hollow-point pistol remained in my holster. My backpack felt unusually light, but I knew that weight played an important part in this next phase.

"Alright, gentlemen," Splinter addressed us, spinning on the spot. "Drop in thirty seconds, I want all of you out in five. Expect alien activity from the fifteenth floor down. Team Alpha, you're on me, team Beta, Key is your point-taker. Shoot to kill, quiet over loud, stay light, and get out with doctor Moreau. Nothing else matters," he concluded and patted me on the shoulder.

Somehow, the fact that there was no new information thirty seconds before the jump, calmed my nerves.

"Ready!" The man commanded and everyone put their gas masks on.

A gas filter, with an inbuilt communicator, was now covering my mouth and nose. My breaths grew slower, as I attempted to focus. Next, I pulled down the small computer, integrated into a pair of goggles. I knew everyone else was nervous, this was not a normal mission, even by our standards. Infiltration into an overrun city, with aliens present. Aliens, what a foe to face. After years of people falling to claim their existence, they invaded and took over half the world within a few days. My squad had been deployed eight times within the week; VIP rescue, intel gathering, sniper overwatch, infiltration, and plain simple elimination missions.

A part of me felt excited at the fact that we were showing these freaks that humanity had better to offer than police officers and whatever the fuck the military had become. I lifted my arms slightly and checked the fiber beneath my armpits, that connected to my flank and all the way to my forearm. I didn't particularly enjoy the next part, but it was undeniably the fastest way to get to a building's rooftop.

My assigned team assembled behind me and I felt Shatter's hand on my shoulder, signifying that everyone else was ready too.

"Ready, Sir!" Came in unison.

"Drop in T-minus five, four, three," the voice over the speaker, our pilot, began counting down the optimal time. The bay's door slowly lowered, revealing the black sky, clouds whizzing past. Dozens of lights, from fire or remaining electricity, shined through the swirly below. "Two, one..."

"Go, go, go, go!" Splinter called out and stood in the middle, as the operatives rushed past him.

I was the first out of the aircraft, the glass over my eyes protected me from tearing up, as my body was whipped out at high speeds. Cold air tugged at my clothes and limbs, but I held my body steady in my descent. Despite my discomfort at wingsuit-flying, the initial departure out of a plane was exhilarating. A hospital, rivaling the skyscrapers next to it, stood out as soon as I broke cloud cover. The sky was, other than a few stray cloud clusters, free of obscurations, making our descent clean and uninterrupted.

Finally clear of the initial entry, I spread out my arms and legs, extending the artificial fiber in between my limbs. My controlled falling turned to a focused glide. I homed in on my target at a steady pace, small bugs and the sort splattering against my goggles.

"Alpha one, Beta one, do you read me?" The voice of the captain rang through the radio, addressing me.

"Beta one, yes I read you. Five hundred meters to target," I concluded.

"Copy. Crowd, split the channels."

The rest of my team finished their radio check. Looking back, the fact that we did this during drop was very far removed from the protocol. But protocol was a suggestion at best. We didn't answer to many people, and those that had authority over us, couldn't care less about these kinds of infractions. As long as we got the job done, there was no reason to suspend us over something so minor.

I took a quick glance back, my squad had formed an almost orderly line behind me. The small blinking light on our feet allowed us to stay together, even with the low visibility of night.

The display in front of my face counted down the meters remaining to my target. I knew exactly at one hundred and fifty meters would be the right moment to pull my cord. The other squad, referred to as Alpha, would land in one of the opposing buildings, infiltrate into the middle and provide overwatch.

Most buildings here had busted windows with entire floors overtaken with debris. Perfect for the little watchful eye of a sniper.

Finally, the hud display warned me to activate my parachute and I ripped the little line of my backpack. Within a moment, the black tarp extended and caught my weight, as I grabbed the directional cords and began to steer the building. Funnily enough, there was a helicopter landing zone painted on the roof. I let out a silent chuckle, as my view wandered away from the building.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, the ground was...moving. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't the ground, but a brownish mass of hundreds, no, thousands of shapes. They crawled over each other or got dragged along with a crowd, moving essentially as one big wave. They poured out from wrecked shops and ruined buildings, while others climbed their way out of the sewer. A particular collection seemed to amass at the base of the hospital.

"What the fuck is that?" Came from the Beta squad's radiofrequency.

"The lost, they used to be humans, but something happened here. Think of the zombies, that is the clearest similarity I can give, without a lesson in anatomy," Fracture, our medic, chimed in.

"Why haven't they told us that there are fucking zombies in the city?" I voiced my frustration. So much for no last info dump before a drop.

Finally, my feet impacted the cement of the rooftop. I took a few running steps to catch my momentum, before taking off my bag and beginning to fold my parachute. Within the next couple of moments, the rest of my squad landed, some rougher than others. Shatter especially had trouble, since he was the one carrying our breaching equipment and utility. Like the rest of the squad, he simply abandoned his parachute gear.

I watched as the Alpha squad assembled on the opposite roof, a commercial hotel building. The rest of my team finished their gear check and lined up on the staircase entrance. But, before I was going to take the front, I walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. Once again, my mind played the trick on me, that it was the concrete that behaved like a liquid. But now, I could make out the shapes below.

Misformed humanoids, elongated limbs, with flesh that looked as if it had melted. Some were towering as if multiple of these lost had assimilated into one another, while others retained their normal size. Claws the size of legs, protruded from fingers longer than an arm, extending and sheathing rhythmically. Glowing eyes stared back up to me, a loud roar was audible in the distance.

"Key?" An inquiry from someone at the door.

I shook my head, clearing the visual of those hordes overrunning the hospital, out of my thoughts. I detached my rifle and clicked the safety, before taking the front of the door. A hand on my shoulder, followed by a quick tap, was my signal.

Breaching was heart-pumping, not knowing what was behind the door or hallway. Having the reflexes of your trigger finger essentially as the only line of safety forced one to be confident in their abilities, so I pushed the door out of the way and let my laser-assisted crosshair wander over the inside. My breath was slow, not calm, but controlled. My finger rested on the trigger, ready to tense at any visual that didn't fit. But the staircase was clear.

"Five floors till target. The southern hallway will be covered by Alpha, at the end of which is the panic room. Expect heavy alien activity," Journal explained quickly.

"Why does a hospital have a panic room anyways?" Shatter chimed in.

No one responded, since we had reached the nineteenth floor. The metal door was embedded into the wall at the base of a landing, it was closed shut but not locked, as this was a public staircase. I put my hand out behind me, signaling Shatter to hand me the plastic explosive. A small brown packet, about the size of my fist, with a sticky side and a small red button. I attached it to the side of the door and pressed the button. A thin red laser now covered the entrance, ensuring that opening the door would result in a tiny explosion, killing anyone close by, without taking down the entire wall.

A little more at ease, I answered Shatter's question. "Because this isn't a hospital in the sense. It is also a research facility, we are extracting a VIP."

"What kind of VIP is high enough in the chain to have us come for them in enemy territory, in the middle of the fucking apocalypse?" Shatter blurted out in a mocking tone.

"This isn't the apocalypse, this is an invasion. One that we will survive based on the order we know," the German-accented voice of Crowd gruffed through the communicator.

"This sure feels like the apocalypse," Fracture remarked with a scuff, while still having his aim on the next set of stairs.

"You signed away your right to complain when the mission started, let's move," I commanded sharply.

Immediately, the momentary relaxation of conversation faded and made way for the oppressing quiet. Everyone else paused until I arrived at the front, a hand to my shoulder confirming their readiness. While I advanced, my eyesight trained through my holographic scope, Journal did his job of keeping overwatch on the path ahead. I cleared the next three floors quickly, placing the small-scale explosive on each of the entrances, simply a way to ensure we weren't going to be flanked.

The rustling of our clothes, the quiet clanging of metal from our gear, and the suppressed breaths through our filters, was slowly becoming more and more drowned out by the sirens, which repeated an emergency signal. Along with the increasing noise, the lights also changed. It seemed that from the sixteenth floor down, the emergency lighting had begun, along with the sirens.

I locked down the last door that would not be in our use, before turning to the landing of the fifteenth floor. Beyond this doorway was our target, everything below that was none of our concern. Sadly, we couldn't put up more explosives on the staircase, since it would possibly take out the entire south side. We gathered at the metal door, two on each side, with Journal taking the very back.

As I leaned against the entryway, I listened carefully for a moment. The noise was uncannily quiet for such a high-powered rifle. The snipers on Alpha squad and their M115 rifles were taking shots just beyond us, the suppressed bullets only leaving the sound of torn air and slumped bodies audible. Crowd attached his G36 to his chest and began to tap on his wrist communicator. Immediately, the speaker within our helmets let out a sharp ring, before turning back into silence.

"Splinter, do you copy?" I asked quietly.

"Copy, what's your status?" The captain replied.

"At the entranceway to target floor, no hostiles yet. Are we clear for entry?"

"We are clearing up the rest of the target floor, but your immediate nine and three are clear," came the command.

"Ready for breach, quiet or loud?" Shatter pulled off his backpack.

"Quiet, for now, silencers on," I replied and began attaching the black suppressor onto my barrel.

Shatter put his rucksack back on, surely a little disappointed, since we didn't need an explosive entrance right now. After a short moment, a familiar hand on my shoulder gripped me and my heart rate increased, preparing me for action. There were no hostiles next to the doorway, with long sightlines, a windowfront to the left. No cover for hostiles, but also none for us. I grabbed the doorknob and slid the door open. My barrel being the first to enter, I slipped inside quickly.

I took the front position, kneeling around three meters away from the door so that my teammates could take a stance behind me. Crowd to the right, along with Fracture, while Journal took a knee to my left, and Shatter peeked over me directly behind my back. We took in the surroundings; pale blue moonlight painted streaks of dusty color through the shattered window frames. Doorways were busted open, their doors unhinged or simply missing from our view, leading to completely darkened rooms.

Deformed corpses, a few still twitching and writhing, lined the hallway. The grey innards of these things were plastered all over the walls, redecorating the paint in a sticky mess. A bit further ahead were the apparent remaining hostiles, which stood almost stationary in a group, while the periodic bullet splattered their heads. Not wanting to wait for the snipers to finish their, although impressive, slow display of precision, my squad took calculated shots at the targets. This almost felt like a practice scenario, overwatch, suppressed weapons, and a straight hallway.

After a moment of simply scanning for any threats, I rose to my feet and began leading my squad through the hallway. I could see the opposite hotel, but not where the Alpha squad had set up exactly. Whenever I approached a room, I slowed down a little, before stepping to the front quickly and preparing to shoot. The cone from my flashlight roamed over empty patient beds, medical equipment, and computers. Without time to relax, upon not being met with green energy weapon fire, I snapped my aim back to the hallway. Shatter did another swing into the room with his Spas-12, which confirmed the all-clear.

I moved quickly past an overturned vending machine, cleared another room that appeared to be empty. I paused for a moment, noticing that a grey wall was going to cut us off from the windows, taking a right turn. Not wanting to simply let our observers in the blind, I held up my hand and left the chain. Still keeping my sights trained on the corner, I walked backward until I met Journal.

"What's the layout beyond this?" I kneeled down alongside him.

The other immediately recognized what we were doing and formed a circle around us, providing cover from all angles. Crowd also called in for orientation pause, which Splinter affirmed. Journal pulled the thin, portable tablet out of the device on his wrist. He grabbed at the glass edges and pulled the screen wider until it was about the size of a tablet. His journal, as he liked to call it, adjusted to the new display size and projected the hospital's layout. His fingertips traced over a few symbols on the bottom, first separating the plan into floors, then showing the one we were on.

"Takes a dip north, the panic room is there, about twenty meters," Journal explained. He showed the schematics for a hallway, wide enough that we could all walk through side by side, followed by a cube, about the size of the patient rooms.

"No overwatch, perfect place for an ambush," I commented.

"Team Beta, what's your status?" Splinter chatted in.

"We'll be leaving your fov soon, I'm suspecting this to be the start of an encounter."

"Yes, we see that, but you will proceed regardless. We have your back, you only have one angle of attack to worry about," I wasn't too reassured by the words, but had few other choices.

"Copy," I turned my microphone off. "Let's move, flashbangs ready," I prepared my teammates.

Due to the position of the hallway, splitting the singular lane up into three, we could not reach the other side without exposing us to whatever was inside. But it was wide, that much had already been clear by the schematics, so I had a plan. First, we all piled up to the corner, I took the front and signaled Shatter to prepare a flashbang.

The pin clinked to the side, the safety pin sprung away, and his throw bounced off the wall. A strange yell indicated that we were in fact not alone. I waited the required two seconds, after the white light of the phosphor faded, to avoid the aftereffects, before I rushed out. I didn't count how many heads I saw, only the grey and pink flesh, but started shooting regardless.

Over ten, less than twenty, of these lost began shuffling towards us, but headshot after headshot sent their melted bodies to the floor. To each one that I put a bullet into them, my squad fired another two. The suppressed sounds of our guns rattled away, the high rate of fire from Journal's F2, the metallic clank from Shatter's Spas-12, my own M4's consistent kick, they were all almost overshadowed by the emergency siren.

The lost didn't even try to dodge, one did rush forward, but its body was catapulted back into place by a mass of shotgun pellets. We had cut them down within a few moments, putting a few more rounds into the twitching bodies.

I let my flashlight illuminate the hallway and, sure enough, there was a solid silvern-metal safe vault at the end of it. The material had been scratched, there were bullet dents at the edges, and part of the locking mechanism had been melted inward by some sort of plasma weaponry. I gave the signal to reload and tossed an almost empty magazine to the side.

"Doctor Moreau!" I knocked on the metal airlock and leaned against it.

"H-hello? Who's there?" A muffled and strained voice emerged from within.

"My name is Luis 'Key', my squad is here to rescue you," I introduced myself.

"How do I know you aren't trying to trick me, get me out of safety, and kill me?" The doctor sounded extremely on edge.

"Do I sound like an alien to you? Can you open the door from the inside?" I was starting to show my frustration.

"They sound just like humans, so that doesn't help your case here. And no, the door is locked, I couldn't open it if I wanted to." I rolled my eyes in resignation.

"Shatter, get this thing open, I'm done talking," I waved the now very excited man to the vault.

"With pleasure," he pulled his backpack off, before knocking on the metal a few times and listening to the sound it made in reverberation. "I recommend you take a step back, doctor. Or go huddle in some corner," he quietly added.

"Key, status," the voice over my headphones demanded.

"Made contact with the VIP, he's locked in the safety room, we're breaching within the minute. Any trouble on your side?" I gave out the information, as Shatter began to unwrap a black silicone tarp, with pouches at the edges. It was about the size of a person, with a cord at the top, and a sticky backside.

"There are reports of movement near our position. If you can handle it yourselves, I am going to disengage overwatch and secure the perimeter." He wasn't really asking for permission to leave us alone, simply doing us the courtesy to warn us.

"Affirmative," I replied quickly and turned back with my hands on my hips.

Shatter had attached the breaching charge to the middle of the door and was already holding the cord in his hands. It was always somewhat unnerving how quickly the man was ready to blow something from its hinges. But enthusiasm was always welcome. The rest of the squad had set up in the hallway, preparing to cover any intruder from the staircase, now that the snipers were no longer active.

"Key, want to do the honors?" Shatter looked to me, excitement in his otherwise obscured eyes.

"How loud will this be?" I grabbed the black cord.

"Loud," I could hear the smile on his face.

I only scoffed a little, before announcing "Breaching."

I ripped the line sharply and took a few steps back. A small spark shot out from the top, running two separate lines along the charge, igniting the sparking charges. This was designed to cut through metal and, although I wasn't as obsessed with the technicalities of explosives as Shatter, I couldn't help but admire the engineer's work. Three timed explosions resounded through the entire floor, before I ducked behind the corner, as the final charge set off. A sound that surely alerted anything nearby to our presence and loud enough to make me thankful for the muffling of our earmuffs.

Smoke and dust filled the area, but I had air filters for that. I pushed through the cloud and into the doorway-sized hole, emerging into a field of metal debris on the other side. Cowering in a corner, was a blonde man, his glasses had shattered on one eye and a few bruises adorned his face and arms. He coughed and hit his chest, having inhaled things much less healthy than air, but that didn't dissuade me from lifting him to his legs.

"Believe me now? Come on, we're getting you out," I grabbed him beneath the armpit and held him steady at my side.

"Ehm...Key?" The uncertain voice of Crowd caught my attention, as I was busy getting the spare filter mask overtop of the doctor's mouth.

"What is it?" I finished attaching the mask and stepped through the hole again.

"The signal's being jammed," There was palpable fear in his voice.

Immediately, I grabbed the pair of night-vision binoculars from my side and looked towards team Alpha's position. My body refused to take in a breath, as I looked through the shattered exterior of the opposing hotel building, somewhere on the sixteenth floor, were figures, just not human shapes. The fact that there weren't any upright human silhouettes, but instead a various assortment of shapes and sizes, made the blood in my veins freeze. A massive frame, inhumanly broad shoulders and neck with a slouched posture and hide-like skin. Metal armor and a facemask, that sunk into a uniquely alien face. Next to it, a skeletal-thin humanoid, also bright skin, with a bulbous head and no mouth to speak of.

I frantically scanned the floor, searching for the outline of the Alpha squad. I found the mutilated bodies of two, the snipers, they had been killed laying down, still clutching their rifles, despite missing entire limbs. Another had slumped against a wall, his head limp and a gaping hole in the middle of his chest. The fourth man was out of sight, though I doubted that he was an exception from the slaughter. Lastly, I spotted Splinter. One of the bigger aliens was holding him by a very much broken arm, suspended outside of the hotel's busted windows. The man struggled and even kicked, but that only seemed to aggravate the beast, as it squeezed down on the man's limb, before dropping him unceremoniously. The older man flailed in the air, trying to reposition, perhaps activate his wingsuit, but without the use of his arm, which appeared to flutter in the wind, he had no chance. I looked away.

The rest of my squad was beginning to shift uncomfortably, the doctor at my side complained about something which I refused to pay attention to. They had killed the overwatch first, leaving us stranded in a narrow hallway, with only one way out. Granted, we could hold this chokepoint for a while, but there was no way of telling how many hostiles we were dealing with.

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"Crowd, what the fuck! Why didn't anyone call in that they were under attack?" I turned to the group.

"The radio is completely down, Key. They cut us off before they attacked," Crowd explained, deep seated-and very justified-fear in his otherwise composed manner.

"What about Evac?" Journal chimed in.

"I can't get a signal in here, we're fish out of water," Crowd displayed his wrist-mounted device, which showed the lack of connection. " Maybe there is a chance on the roof. Maybe."

Once again, the doctor voiced something, but I was used to ignoring civilians. These types of situations happened and I needed to keep a level head. Panic wouldn't help us here. I commanded Moreau to stick with Journal, taking up the rear, as we prepared to head back to the staircase, make way to the rooftop, and set up to stall the enemy.

"Prepare for engagement, they know we're here," I added, as we cleared the hallway quickly.

But, just as we got to the entrance, I paused. The door was closed. I hadn't closed this door.

"Get bac-" I tried warning, taking a dive to the left, as I heard the impending earthquake beyond the exit.

But it was late. The door flew open with enough force to pull the hinges from the walls, sending it flying out of the windowfront. A blur of enormous muscle barged through the door, head down and a massive alien weapon, with what looked to be a bayonet at the end of it. I had avoided the initial entry, out of view of the hulking beast, but Shatter wasn't nearly as lucky.

The creature lunged forward and forced the breacher against the northern wall. I heard a crack, unable to decipher if it had been the wall or the human's spine. Before anyone could bring their thoughts into some sort of order, the alien beast pulled back with its blade and stabbed. The first pierce was deep, hilting the barrel of its gun against Shatter's chest. Blood began running down the side of his body, alongside the alien's shiny metal, as it pulled back out. I saw the muscles on its arm tense and immediately knew it was going to finish the job.

But the burst of bullets, coming from me and the rest of the squad, made it pause. Comparatively tiny impacts sent pieces of its armored hide and greenish blood against the walls and floor. We tore into its back, shoulders, and neck, but it just didn't go down. I had already switched to full-auto, emptying my clip into the unflinching creature. Seemingly without paying heed to our gunfire, it reared again and thrust the deadly edge back into my comrade.

When the release on my rifle finally announced that I had run dry, its body gave out. Completely riddled with bullets, it still pressed the body of Shatter against the wall, as it sunk to its knees and slumped. Its weapon fell from its grasp and slid out of the man's chest. I didn't need Fracture's confirmation, Shatter was dead.

The blaring of the emergency siren seemed to only swell, as I scrambled to my feet and replaced my magazine. Immediately, I locked my sights with the staircase, which now lay exposed from our hallway. I heard more stomping footsteps, some lighter ones, and a unique noise of something long being dragged along the floor.

"We need to go, now!" I ordered and forced my squad to focus on me, rather than our dead friend.

I rushed out into the staircase, foregoing the tactical and slow approach that had brought us here. They knew where we were and they were ready. Had they been waiting?

"Key!" A relatively suppressed hum, followed by a green flare at the edges of my vision. I snapped to the visual, my training taking the shot before my brain even registered that shooting back may not have been the optimal choice. In that split second, I was ready for the impact of the pressurized plasma, preparing for the melting of wherever I was hit. But instead, a dull force hit my side, Fracture.

I was thrown to the side, as the tall man tackled me to the ground. The plasma shattered the wall behind me, tearing a melting hole into the concrete, while my bullet had torn the skull of that strange, skeletal humanoid. I frantically shuffled into cover, my senses overflowing with adrenaline. I pulled at Fracture, trying to get him out of the open as well. But something was immediately off. He didn't move at all and felt unnaturally light. My horror only grew, as I realized that everything below his stomach was no longer attached to the rest of him, the pair of unconnected legs kicked and squirmed without their owner.

Fracture let out a few more groaning breaths, sucking in air as if drowning. His mindless hands were rummaging all over his own and my body, without thought, simply terror of his situation. I held his head steady and forced the dying man to look at me, instead of the horror around us. Watching people die, what a horrible job.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Crowd screamed and rushed out of the doorway and up the stairs, past me.

I couldn't blame him, honestly. We were professionals, the best of the best-or worst if you asked the right people-, but this entire situation was nothing short of insanity. At the same time, I couldn't let myself be overcome with the panic, there was still a chance to survive this. A big part of me felt disgusted when I let Fracture slump against the wall and rose to a crouched position, though the flightless eyes told me he could not have lived much longer.

I gave the signal to push out behind me, Journal emerged with haste, basically dragging the doctor behind him. Beneath us, somewhere in the winding staircase, I heard the strange, guttural alien speech, that I had been shown before. An order, by the sound of it, though I had no way of telling what they were actually saying.

Suddenly, the entire building vibrated. At first, I suspected that our misfortune had called upon an earthquake, but that would have been lucky, looking back. No, this was some alien technology, something which shook the entire building, and emitted a loud rumbling. Suddenly, I heard that yell again, that howl that the lost made. Only louder, more, aggressive, and much closer.

I hurried up the stairs backward, keeping my crosshair trained on our backs. The beat of this ear-shattering drum turned from infrequent humming to a fast-paced heartbeat-like rhythm, that I found myself instinctively synchronizing my agitated exhales to. In fact, everything in my thoughts was entranced by the entire situation, trapped with the only way out being up, with uncountable foes all merging on our position. Truly, this was so far beyond what anyone could have prepared me for.

As we reached floor seventeenth, with Crowd already one above us, I heard footsteps. Not a few, not a dozen, uncoordinated, and infrequent in pace and weight. These weren't people walking up a staircase, this was a tidal wave of hundreds or possibly thousands of the lost, pouring up the building. Indeed, like a flood, I saw the grey shapes climb overtop of each other, fall from the banisters, and being crushed beneath their alien compatriots. The comparison to the movie World War Z was somehow more appropriate than any logical conclusion my brain went to.

"What the fuck!" Journal screamed out, redoubling his efforts to run up the stairs.

Running, yeah, that part of training everyone always despised. But now that your life depended on how long and fast you can run, with all your gear, I doubt anyone wouldn't have wanted to have skipped out on the exercise. Crowd, was, in fact, one of these people. Despite his headstart, he was beginning to slow down and both Journal and I soon caught up, right around when we got to the nineteenth floor.

Only one more.

I had abandoned trying to check behind us, we already knew what was coming. Instead, I helped journal hurry the doctor up the stairs, basically carrying him halfway up each flight. The frantic beating continued to barrage our ears, while the groaning and howling of the rising mass of bodies grew closer. This, the knowledge of impending doom, the continuous shriek of the sirens, undermined by so many different noises, was what brought me to the edge of my composure.

After the final lap, I burst through the door at the top, holding it for the others, before shutting it. The bars were only push-down, meaning there was no way to lock the door. I backed off into the middle of the roof, where the parachutes my team had discarded, still fluttered.

"Crowd, get us the fuck out of here!" I ordered the German, who was already frantically tapping his tablet.

The doctor got behind us, as Journal and I kneeled down and took aim at the door. There was one way they could come through, if we aimed carefully, we could stall them out long enough for our escort to get here. Knowing that noise was no longer a factor, I unscrewed my suppressor and threw it to the side, Journal doing the same. I took a quick glance at the map-keeper, the man was shaking.

The first indication of how close our pursuers were, was the explosion of the Doorway Denial Device, which the group would have hit on accident. The building rumbled, but the charge wasn't nearly designed to take out more than a doorframe. Another came directly after, indicating that the first explosion had not slowed them down at all.

A rough noise of static came into my ear, followed by Crowd screaming something into his headset. "Requesting immediate Evac, heavy casualties, VIP secured!"

I couldn't decipher what the response was, but the communications specialist's face spoke volumes.

"They're having technical difficulties, it will take them 40 seconds." His eyes flicked between me and Journal.

"There is no way we're making it out of this, is there?" Journal, despite everything, or perhaps just completely spent, laughed.

"I am not dying here, now lock the fuck up!" I hid my own fearful assessment in deterministic resoluteness.

Journal seemed somewhat comforted by the gesture, though I suspected that he could see past it. Crowd, with his long-range assault rifle, took up a spot at the back, alongside the doctor. We had another few moments, in which I noted that the forest to the west was four or five kilometers away from our current position. But, as I considered the very stupid idea, I noticed how Crowd's vision was focused past the building's ledge, frantically flicked between multiple points, like a cat following a laser pointer.

"Oh, Scheiße-"The man screamed.

He tried to jump away, but a pale, elongated limb reached over the edge and grabbed his ankle. The creature twisted the man's leg 180 degrees, forcing Crowd to the ground. His weapon flew out of reach, he attempted to scramble out of it, recover his pistol and shoot at the lost, which was pulling itself up via his legs. But the shape's claws extended and slammed down into his chest. It sunk through the vest easily and blood gushed from the wounds, as well as the man's mouth, as the creature reared to strike again.

But a burst of bullets tore the zombie's head clean off, the corpse slumping and rolling back, off the side of the building. At that moment, the last explosive warning went off, just as I cleared the distance to Crowd. As I looked over the man's deep punctures, my peripheral caught the horrifying visual that had sent Crowd into this state.

Climbing from the very base, where a massive horde had gathered, were thousands of these grey creatures. Clutching onto the solid concrete and coming out of the broken window frames, were the amorphous shapes of bubbling skin, gooey flesh, and sharp talons. Hundreds were already on the sixteenth and seventeenth floor, with an uncountable number beneath. The thumping drum had stopped, but we had already made enough noise to get the entire city's attention.

Crowd, meanwhile, spat out more of his own blood, an incoherent murmur escaping between the geysers. His entire body began to convulse and shake in my hands, his eyes rolled back. At first, I only regretted that our medic had already died, but when his blood began to turn more and more solid, another realization hit me. These were basically zombies, as far as Fracture's explanation had been concerned, so what would happen if one died to one.

Granted, in media, bites and saliva were the reasons for infection, but as the man's eyes glazed over and his wounds completely shut within a second, I made the call that this wasn't a movie. This was much, much worse than having to simply watch him die, as I put my pistol to his forehead. His body was still shaking and a long, wailing howl escaped his shifting throat, but his head didn't move. In fact, it almost felt as if he pressed against the barrel. I looked away and felt the recoil.

Without time to mourn the death of our friend, I took aim at the doorway, just as the metal began to budge and bend. Out poured a mass of limb, folding flesh, and screaming faces. We both opened fire, the sound of our rifles began to even sound over the yelling and moaning of the creatures. Indeed, their tunneling in through a single entrance made it easy to pick out the heads, however misformed they were. The bodies we had killed began to pile up, blocking parts of the entrance, but the others simply began to climb over.

Shots to the body did little to slow them, so, even as they got within a dangerous range, I had to aim deliberately. And that would have been fine, I knew how to shoot and these things never attempted to dodge or spread out, but a simple fact they had over us, was that neither of us had unlimited ammo-or space.

Journal's F2 rattled, the high rate of fire tearing apart multiple heads with one burst, as we were being forced backward. But, as we got closer to the edge, I remembered how close some of the lost, that were climbing up the face of the building, actually were. I aimed over the ledge and shot out the arms and shoulders of a few of the closest ones, letting them fall the hundred of meters back to the ground. Journal and I alternated between holding back the lines of melted humanoids to the front and taking out the ones that threatened to reach the edge.

My frantic pressing of the trigger, and the subsequent empty click, let me know that our time had just become much more limited. As I ejected the spent magazine and grabbed the next one, a monster, about the size of two humans, charged through the piling doorway. Journal had been in the process of reloding, so there was now stopping the charging brute.

A pair of five claws, all longer than my torso, swung at me, threatening to separate my legs from my stomach, swung. I dove to the ground and rolled, while simultaneously grabbing my pistol. The smaller caliber might not have the necessary stopping power to do much, but still, I emptied the clip into the creature's head. It flinched at the bullets and part of its cranium flew off in chunks, but it wasn't going down. As the last bullet simply passed through the flesh, I felt the first sign of true panic.

My eyes were wide, my muscles had locked, and the beat of my heart washed out all of the noise. The being reared up and the claws formed long shadows with the moonlight, reflecting the pale blue. So many thoughts at that moment, but none that I can recall now, it all feels like a blur of images and flashing lights.

But that was apparently not where my life was supposed to end, as the sudden rattle of a mounted machine-gun thundered from the sky. Streaks of orange bullets tore through the massive body, chunks splattering against the concrete. I was still kneeling, as the chopper above flew hovered above the building, clearing the advancing forces from the door. I scrambled to my feet and inserted the final magazine into my M4.

Journal let out a quick exclamation of glee, seeing the mounted gunner tearing apart hundreds of converging monsters. The helicopter flew around the building in circles, confirming the suspicion that it was being scaled from all angles. The doctor had backed off all the way to the edge, only a few meters away from the crawling lost, as the chopper held its doors open, hovering at the side of the building.

"Come on, we're getting out of here!" The gunner screamed at the top of his lungs, between bursts of high-caliber fire.

I held down the doorway, as Journal grabbed the VIP and made the jump. They landed on the other side and the operator immediately supported me with more gunfire. I spun and took off running. I heard the feral footsteps and aggravated panting behind me, but didn't look back to see how close I was being followed.

The distance wasn't far, but the way down was long. I ignored the sinking feeling in my stomach and leaped.

I landed hard on the metal and, immediately after I had entered, the pilot swerved the machine to the side and away from the building, tilting the entire cabin sideways. First, a few, then many dozen of the lost were trying to leap from the roof and the side of the facade, a few almost made it, while others simply flailed as their bodies went by.

"Yeeeeeaaaahhh!" Journal cried out, watching us get more and more distance away from the horrible building.

Both of us collapsed against the wall, then slumped to the floor. He ripped off his headgear and threw his weapon to the ground, before letting his eyes close and head hit the wall behind him, while going through his hair with his fingers. Both of us panted heavily, from adrenaline and exertion. The consistent sound of the rotors lulled some semblance of victory into our minds, as we attempted to process what had just happened.

"Holy fuck, what happened in there? Where's the rest, where's squad Alpha?" The gunner dismounted his weapon and entered the cabin.

"Dead, all of them," I responded sharply.

The man didn't respond, only nodding in silent consultation.

"Well, you got the doctor and you're still alive. Time to get out of this cursed city," the pilot chimed in through the headphones.

This moment, or rather the next...If there was anything I could have done to prevent it, if I could have saved anyone...Of course, that if only comes from hindsight, back then, none of us had a clue what was going to happen.

A tiny gleam of reflected light was all the warning I could make out, coming from the hotel building. The next second, the entire inside was thrown around like the inside of a washing machine, my body impacted with the doctor, then the walls and seats. I lost grip on my rifle, as the helicopter spun around itself in every direction. I smelled fire.

Although it wasn't longer than a split second, it was as if this moment of intense disorientation lasted for minutes. I saw the panicked expressions of the other human, the hole in the back of the pilot's head, where chunks of brain matter had spattered against the glass cockpit, and the open door to my left. It wasn't much of a choice, die in a ball of fire, or jump and see what happens. I didn't want to die, a quality I would lose over the next decades.

My legs found something solid to push off of and, within a second of blurred surroundings, I found myself outside. The chopper fell faster than me, we were about double the height of the surrounding skyscrapers, as I began my free fall. At that moment, the emergency noise of the helicopter seized, along with the motor and any other tumultuous sound, stopped and was replaced by tearing winds.

Initially, I could barely make out the difference from up and down, but the rapidly approaching city notified me that I was, in fact, upside-down.

I flailed and kicked against the air and managed to spin correctly. In the distance, I made out my salvation, the forest. As soon as I extended my arms and spread my legs, the wind grabbed ahold of the flaps of my wingsuit and began to allow me to glide. I had to dodge skyscrapers and was met with the sound of an explosion behind me. And, although racing with incoherent thought, there was a part of my mind that dreaded what came after my landing.

I could have called this in, report a crash, and return to fight, but, if nothing else, today had shown that we were not ready to fight this foe. This battle, it wasn't a war we could win, once this was over, humanity would be done. No, I didn't want to fight this losing battle anymore. And so, I tore off the communicator and let it sail to the ground, losing my last connection to the rest of humanity.

Slowly, I blinked the unconsciousness from my hazy mind, before my instincts made me painfully aware of every facet of reality. My lower stomach flared with pain, my breath was impaired, and I felt a splint on my arm. The softness of the ground beneath me heightened the suspicion that I was in some sort of medical facility, but an unfocused look around the dimly lit interior of the familiar tent structure, let me know otherwise.

Without moving my body too much, I slowly observed the clearing visuals, until I landed on a man. Black operator gear, an unknown rifle on a strap, short frame, not very muscular. My quick threat assessment ended with the simple conclusion that he was likely with Xcom-and that I could take him in a fight if need be. But why station an operator in here?

Suddenly, the memories of the previous night flooded back into my mind. The attack by the troopers, my failed plan to group up in the middle, the mortar strike, and that viper...They retreated, Advent didn't retreat, they fought until they either won or lost everything.

The man was guarding the entrance to the small, yellow tent, his back turned to me. A part of me wanted to knock him out and explore whatever was left of the camp on my own terms. If Xcom was involved, it was bad, that much was clear. But then again, attacking an agent in my state might just be too much for me, even if he was scrawny.

So instead, I cleared my throat, saying. "Hey, I'm awake. I'm assuming you're supposed to tell someone."

The man jumped a little at my vocalization, before looking me over, confirming that I was indeed conscious.

Without a word, the man turned and pushed through the tent.

Finally alone, I took in a deep sigh and closed my eyes while rubbing my forehead. Still, the sound of the crashing helicopter, the blaring emergency alarm from the hospital, and that rumbling vibration remained within my head. I heard the screams of pain and terror, the howling of the lost, and that tiny flash before our escape went down. I noticed my breath becoming shaky, along with my body feeling hot and cold at the same time.

It was then when I noticed that I had been stripped, safe for a pair of undergarments. I lifted the thin blanket and inspected the bandages around my chest. A red circle had formed at my lower left stomach, painting the cloth in dried crimson. The splint on my left forearm looked professional, while a few specks of removed shrapnel wounds seeped through on my chest cover.

My self-inspection was interrupted, by a woman with a white lab coat, loose brown hair, and a freckled face, who pushed past the entrance. At first, I assumed she was a doctor, but her posture seemed off.

"Luis Ringer," she greeted, though it sounded more like she was asking for confirmation. My last name, a word I hadn't heard in a while.

"Yes?"

"My name is doctor Kura, I am with a branch that is specialized in quick response. Yesterday's events have cost this camp a lot, you should be glad to be as unharmed as you are," her voice carried this authoritarian tone, she was definitely high up the chain of command.

'Oh, I am just so grateful to be in pain again,' it took a lot of willpower to not roll my eyes.

Upon noticing that I wasn't going to respond that easily, she prodded further. "I understand, from a conversation with the camp's leader, that you are trained in military tactics. Where did you serve?"

I held eye contact a little longer, how much had Emir told them? Granted, there wasn't much the man could have said since he, too, had false information. "Colorado infantry, I enlisted in 2012." Not a lie, it was indeed where I had started, just the date was off by a few years.

"And what rank did you achieve during your service?"

"Nothing beyond corporal, the invasion cut my career short ," I put on a little bit of a lighthearted tone, trying to reinforce the lie.

She took a seat in a chair in the corner, tablet in hand. "And how did you find this encampment?" She was definitely cross-referencing my statement with whatever Emir had told them.

"My platoon was ordered to rescue civilians out of a hot zone, but when we got there, there was no one left to rescue. Before we could get new orders, the war was declared over and we scattered." The same story the leader had heard the first time we had met.

She noted down what I had just told her, then let a smile cross her features. "How would you like a job at Xcom?"

There it was, get my information, then try to persuade me. Her intense eyes spoke of confidence.

"Not interested," I observed calmly, as her expression pulled back, showing pure confusion before she regained her composure.

"With all due respect, corporal, what else would you do? I am certain you are aware that this campsite has mostly burned down. This camp is dead, there is nothing more here." The purpose of her argument was obvious, 'your life is done, why not give the rest to us?'

"I have been awake for maybe five minutes, I don't know exactly what I will do," I admitted. "But I sure as fuck am not going to join your squad of crazies."

"You call us crazy, but we are the only reason why any of you are even still alive!" She countered, her voice was aggravated, I had hit a nerve.

"Is that so? Cause the last thing I remember was that the aliens were retreating."

"They were in the process of repositioning, we ensured that your camp was safe."

"That's what you call it? What did you do?" And why did I care what happened to the xenos?

"Fifteen Advent units surrendered, the rest died in the ensuing firefight. They are currently being held, while we decide how to handle this," she explained.

"Advent surrendered...Now that's new," I commented.

"Indeed. But back to the subject at hand, my offer stands until we leave in two days. I do hope you make the correct decision," she rose from the chair.

"I'll consider it," I wasn't going to reconsider it.

The doctor took another look at me, before slipping back out of the tent.

Finally alone again, I pushed out of bed, seeing the metal rods on my left arm, that supported a broken bone. I spotted a pair of my clothes, a plain cotton shirt and a beige jacket, as well as black farmer's pants. Just then, my eyes fell upon the lines all along my forearm and biceps. The world around me shifted slightly, as all of my focus was drawn to these scars. What a glorious outlook for a man like me.

I eventually managed to snap my view away from myself, quickly getting dressed, though the fact that I couldn't bend my arm made it more difficult than I would have liked it to be.

As I was buttoning up my jacket, my thoughts traveled to the woman's words. Some of the units surrendered, that fact was so odd, so impossible. Up until now, they were instruments of terror, soldiers with biology evolved to hunt and kill humans. They were coordinated and merciless, these weren't really sentient beings. But now, now that might be wrong. Something happened yesterday and it changed this already lost war. Maybe it was closure on uncertainty, perhaps just simple curiosity, but I was not going to pass up the opportunity to find out what was happening.

Just as I concluded that I would have to check out these aliens on my own, another person entered. The shorter, muscular frame of Emir emerged into the tent. His face had bandages covering the left eye and cheek, a white cloth held his arm against his stomach and he walked with an obvious limp. Overall, he looked far worse than me, but, since I didn't know where he had been during the explosions, he might have just gotten unlucky with shrapnel.

"Luis, you're awake, thank god." He leaned against a support beam.

"No thanks to god, they seemed to have patched you up, too."

"Yeah, I guess," he looked down on my splint, before rising to meet my eyes. "You...don't want to join Xcom, still?"

"How many times have we had this conversation, Emir? I do not, nor will I ever, be a part of these self-righteous bastards," I kept my voice as neutral as possible, but my frustration definitely seeped through.

"I know, I know, it's just...Luis, I don't know what else there is at this point. The camp is done, so many people, so many families...They're all gone." His eyes wandered to the walls, lost in thought. "I'm joining them, along with the others. I was just hoping that you'd do too," he concluded, his brown eyes filled with uncertain emotion.

"I need to think, Emir, but don't expect me to have a change of heart. Something happened here and I feel like they're trying to cover it up, I want to find out what." The man was almost a friend, above me in the camp's hierarchy, but always at least willing to listen to both sides of an argument. He was almost a friend, there was simply a limit to how much I trusted him.

"The aliens?" He inquired further, definitely on the same train of thought as me. But I had to be careful, depending on what Xcom had in store for us, I could easily be labeled a traitor and shot without a second thought.

"Everything. This entire situation stinks of behind-the-scenes play," I left it broad enough to plausibly deny any accusation later on.

"If you're playing at what I think you are, I have to warn you. The people that lost their houses, their lives, and their families yesterday, they want the aliens dead," he paused momentarily and checked the tent's entrance, before continuing. "And Xcom already mentioned that they don't need all fifteen."

"Where are they kept?" If this was bait, I took it like a starving street cat.

"In the town hall, they use the cages from the farmers to hold them." I got ready to leave, but Emir grabbed my arm and whisper sharply. "Luis, don't do something you'll regret."

"Not doing anything, just going for a walk," I smiled and the man let go.

I had to shield my eyes, as I emerged into the bright morning sun. The smell of rain hung in the air, along with a thick layer of burnt wood, and a lingering taste of blood. The ground was drying mud and the small puddles in the ruins indicated that yesterday's fire had been extinguished by rainy weather. All around the upper circle lay the holes of mortar fire, crimson-colored earth, and chunks of flesh. Propped up against the bullet-riddled houses, were the corpses of the Advent troopers, sat up straight and ordered. A little further off, I spotted a pyre, next to which were a few people, tossing the corpses of dead humans onto it.

Next to the high-roofed building, that was the townhall, rested the futuristic hovercraft. Its hangar hung open and agents were busy carrying supplies from and to the inside. The camp's survivors sat on empty boxes, rested against walls, wept in front of the covered remains of a loved one. I spotted the scientist-lady out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored her, as I made my way to my old home.

My home was on the outer circle, so I already knew that it was very unlikely that it was unaffected by the fires, so I wasn't terribly disappointed that it was in fact gone. The support pillars had charred and burned through, leaving cracks in the blackened wood. The thatch roof had collapsed inwards and only remnants of flaky dust were scattered around that interior. My bedroom wall had crumpled, connecting it to the living room.

I entered through a doorway, that was the only part of the entrance that still stood. Treading carefully over the ashen interior, I made my way to my now very open bedroom. The solid wood bedframe remarkably stood resolute, however much it had lost its stability. I pushed the cracked, black wood away, revealing the solid, metal lockbox.

Within, lay the black rucksack, with its many pockets and compartments. A survival kit I had assembled over the past years. Dried food ration, water filters, a hunting knife, a solar-powered flashlight, a foldable sleeping bag, a compass, climbing rope, matchsticks, antibiotics and painkillers, night-vision binoculars, plastic bags, and bandages.

'You gonna run?' I scoffed at myself.

Was I? Yes, I wanted to leave. Something about this, other than that I had no home or community to live in, was wrong. These Xcom agents had different equipment, spoke differently, and didn't immediately leave after dropping by. A specialized unit, as if. The only reason they were remotely interested in us was that none of us had a place to go, we were easy recruits. And those aliens, what had caused them to stop fighting, they had been in pain before I passed out. But why, why were they suddenly different?

There was one way I could think of to satisfy all these questions, that bore themselves into my mind like a woodpecker. Ask, I knew the aliens could understand English. Granted, it wasn't the best idea, try chatting up the invaders, but when was the last time the knowledge of potential consequences dissuaded me?

With a (not very) clear goal in mind, I put the box back under the bed and headed towards the townhall.