Stillness Before the Storm

Morning light finally blanketed the valley. The churning mist from last night had dispersed, leaving only a thin haze clinging to the low-lying mud like a veil of white gauze. The wind carried dampness and rot, mingled with the scents of acid and blood, making the entire valley entrance feel bleak and oppressive.

The battlefield was a mess. Broken wooden stakes lay across the ground like dry bones, while shattered rocks were scattered everywhere. Pits crisscrossed the muddy earth, filled with filthy water mixed with green and red. Bubbles constantly rose to the surface, bursting with a pungent stench. The air stung the eyes, and even with dawn having arrived, this place still resembled ruins shrouded in poison gas.

The bodies of the Squad Leader and Squadron Leader still lay across the center of the breach, their enormous forms like toppled colossi. Their carapaces had lost their luster, and the cracks at their necks and along their abdomens were terrifyingly black. The spines on their backs had snapped off and pierced the mud like rows of neatly arranged short spears. Sunlight fell on the remains without bringing warmth, only making the bloodstains and acid scars look even more grotesque.

Ryan sat with his back against the rock wall, his twin blades planted beside him. Their edges were riddled with chips and no longer sharp, yet they remained covered in a faint Aura glow. Part of the wound on his shoulder had dried, his sleeve was badly torn, and the scorched marks left by acid on his skin throbbed faintly. His arms were numb from overuse, and every movement brought a tearing pain. His chest rose and fell heavily, while the taste of blood still lingered in his throat.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. Scenes from last