Bio-Mech Warrior

0450 Hours

Bodies dropped one after another as the horde surged forward, flanked by a towering menace. Andrew's squad fought back with everything they had—but it wasn't enough.

From twelve, only six remained.

The Titans—massive, axe-wielding bio-weapons—rampaged through the field like demons let loose. Their armored flesh soaked in blood, eyes glowing with artificial rage. Undead walkers swarmed in endless waves, snarling and groaning, the jungle clearing echoing with chaos.

Three Titans were down. Dozens of mangled corpses piled up. But the enemy kept coming, relentless.

"Damn it—out!" Andrew shouted, slamming a fresh magazine into his rifle and firing again.

"This is too much, sir!" Mikhail called out, switching to his sidearm. "If we don't move, we're finished!"

Nearby, Peter—wounded and sweating—barely clung to consciousness. Mary steadied him, firing short bursts at any walker that got too close. Tanya scanned the treeline and spotted a narrow path cutting into the jungle.

"Lieutenant!" she called. "To the left! I see an exit!"

Andrew didn't hesitate. "Everyone, fall back! Mikhail, you're with me—rear guard!"

As the others scrambled for the path, Andrew and Mikhail held the line. Rounds cracked and thundered. A Titan charged—but Mikhail's shot took out its knee. The beast stumbled. Then came the grenades—two bursts of fire and shrapnel tore through the enemy, slowing them just long enough.

They broke through the trees and emerged into a wide clearing—a natural dead end surrounded by dense jungle and thick treelines. A choke point. Their last stand.

Andrew raised his comm. "Hometown, this is Pathfinder. We've taken heavy losses. Half our squad is KIA."

Colonel Gray's voice crackled through static. "Copy that, Pathfinder. Give me your coordinates."

"We're at Sierra-Green. Two clicks from the RV. Ran into multiple Titans and a dense horde. We had to fall back."

Gray went silent for a moment.

"Can the area support exfil?" he asked.

"It's wide open. Good visibility. We're requesting immediate evac."

Another pause.

"Assets en route. ETA: Thirty minutes. Hold the perimeter."

"Understood," Andrew replied, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "We'll be ready."

"Stay alive, Lieutenant. That's an order."

Andrew lowered the comm as Tanya approached.

"Exfil is thirty minutes out," he said. "How's the team?"

"Not good, sir," she said. "Peter's barely hanging on. Ammo's almost gone."

Andrew looked across the team—bruised, burned, bloodied—but still alive.

"Can we hold?"

Tanya nodded. "We don't have a choice."

Andrew walked to Peter, who was slumped against a tree, his uniform soaked in sweat. His shoulder wound had swollen, veins darkening beneath the skin.

"I feel like I'm turning into one of them…" Peter muttered weakly.

"Stop joking," Tanya said sharply, wiping his forehead with a cloth.

Andrew knelt beside him. "I'm sorry you got caught in this."

Peter smiled faintly. "This is war, sir. None of us walk out clean."

Not far away, Mary stared at her dead Padnote. The screen had flickered out minutes ago.

"Sir, we're blind. Battery's drained," she said.

Andrew gave a nod. "You did good, Private."

He stood and scanned the treeline with his binoculars. Shadows stirred.

"We've got movement. East path," he whispered.

0525 Hours – Daybreak

The sun broke the horizon. Its golden rays filtered through the canopy, bathing the jungle in uneasy light.

With every passing second, the undead drew closer. More than fifty. Maybe a hundred. Groaning. Twitching. Hungering.

Andrew's team checked what little ammo they had left and took defensive positions around the clearing.

Mikhail manned his SR-55, lying prone behind a rock.

"Hold your fire," Andrew ordered. "Wait until they hit two-fifty."

Tension crawled like insects under their skin. Their fingers tightened on triggers. Eyes stared down sights.

"They're in range," Mikhail muttered.

"Engage."

Mikhail's first shot echoed like thunder.

One walker's head exploded—then the round cut through the four behind it.

That was the signal. The others opened fire. Controlled bursts shredded the front line. The undead dropped in rows, but more pushed forward, walking over the corpses of their own.

"Don't let them get close!" Andrew barked.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy stomping grew louder. Trees trembled.

"Titans—ten of them!" Mikhail called out.

He lined up his scope and dropped one. Then another. Two headshots. Two down.

The others kept coming.

"Left flank—three more!" Tanya yelled.

Peter, already weakened, grinned.

He'd been waiting.

He pulled a detonator from his belt and hit the switch.

A thunderous blast erupted from the left. Flames devoured the Titans mid-charge, sending limbs flying. The air reeked of scorched biomass.

Tanya glanced at Peter in disbelief.

"Blown to kingdom come," he said with a weak grin.

A Chaser lunged from the treeline. Tanya gunned it down midair.

"Don't push yourself!" she warned.

"I'm not dead yet!" Peter shouted, grabbing his sidearm and opening fire. Each round came slower than the last, but his eyes were sharp.

0530 Hours

The horde's numbers were thinning—but the ground was slick with blood, bullet casings, and burned corpses. The team was out of breath, out of grenades, nearly out of hope.

Ten minutes remained until exfil.

"We're almost out of ammo, sir!" Tanya reported. Her rifle was dry. She switched to her sidearm.

Andrew emptied his last magazine. He felt the click—no more rounds. He reached for his knife, adrenaline masking the ache in his muscles.

"Don't give up!" he shouted. "Help is almost here!"

Suddenly, the distant thump of rotor blades echoed through the canopy.

A familiar sound.

The sound of salvation.

A black silhouette broke through the treetops—an OUF gunship, flanked by two escort drones.

"It's them!" Mary cried. "They're here!"

"Hold the line!" Andrew shouted.

The gunship swooped down, chainguns roaring. Bullets mowed down the remaining walkers in seconds, tearing through the jungle like lightning. Trees shattered, corpses exploded, and the air filled with thunder.

The drones flew low, releasing sonic pulses that disoriented the remaining Titans. The beasts roared in confusion before the gunship's rockets struck—reducing them to nothing but ash and smoke.

Andrew shielded his eyes as the LZ was cleared in under a minute.

The gunship hovered, its ramp lowering. A voice crackled over comms:

"Pathfinder team, this is Valkyrie. LZ secure. Move now!"

Andrew grabbed Peter by the arm and slung it over his shoulder. Tanya and Mikhail covered their rear while Mary helped another squadmate.

The team limped to the bird.

One by one, they boarded.

As the gunship lifted off, the jungle below turned into a blur of destruction. The battlefield was silent again—only smoke remained.

0545 Hours – En Route

Inside the cabin, Andrew leaned back against the bulkhead. His uniform was soaked, his rifle empty. Tanya wrapped a field blanket around Peter and gave him another injection to hold off the fever.

Mary sat in silence, eyes closed, clutching her offline device.

Mikhail cleaned blood from his gear, lost in thought.

No words. No victory cheers. Just silence.

Andrew looked out the window as the jungle disappeared beneath the clouds.

They were going home.

But the war wasn't over.

Not even close.