NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 4: The Dead City.
September 2184. Copper 9 Surface. Onboard an M10 APC.
After thoroughly combing the abandoned outpost and analyzing the chilling data retrieved from the terminals, Jason and the SEAF team deployed a recon drone. The drone, designed to penetrate through layers of snow and rock, would trace the severed power conduits back to their source. The trail led toward one of the bombed-out cities, a graveyard left behind after a total surface wipe by orbital strikes. Jason could feel the weight of the silence pressing in as they moved, the faint hum of the APC's engine the only sound cutting through the frozen wasteland.
Inside the M10 APC—an updated version of the battle-tested M5 from the First Galactic War—Jason manned the autocannon turret. He swept it in wide arcs, scanning the blank landscape through thermal optics. Nothing. Just an endless expanse of snow, scorched ground, and the skeletal remains of trees. Even though there was no sign of life, Jason's gut churned with unease. There was always something lurking, waiting for a mistake.
"Anything ahead?" Jason called, keeping his eyes on the scanner display.
"Still blind in this storm. Visibility's almost zero, but we're nearing the outskirts of the city," the driver responded, his voice tense. "I can just make out some of the larger structures through the haze. The drone's still following the cable line. No deviations. We'll be there in about thirty minutes."
"Radiation levels?"
"Surprisingly low. Standard bombardment, no nukes."
Jason gritted his teeth. That didn't bring much comfort. A nuke would've been merciful—instantaneous. This, though? This left people to suffer and die slowly in a landscape of fire and ash. It was clear that the SEAF's enemies hadn't been looking to target strategic points—they had wanted complete annihilation. Burn the planet down to the bone.
"What about the Eagles? Anything from aerial recon?"
"Nothing solid. They reported movement in the trees earlier, but visibility's too low to confirm. Could be snow drifts. They're doing wide sweeps of the area but it's still a needle in a haystack out there."
Jason leaned forward, his muscles tensing. "Have one of the Eagles pull off and fly patrol around our position. We're blind out here. We need something in the air, keeping us covered."
"Roger that."
Jason turned his gaze back to the forward scanners as the driver relayed his command over the radio. Outside, the drone hovered a few meters above the frozen ground, its blue scanning light reflecting off the snow-covered landscape. Soon, the twisted, blackened remains of skyscrapers appeared in the distance, rising out of the snow like jagged teeth. A city once teeming with life, now reduced to ruins.
"Let's have the drone move ahead, feed its data to the map system," Jason said, his voice steady despite the tension rising in his chest. "We don't want to run into any surprises."
The drone obediently pushed forward, its sensors mapping a clear path through the rubble and collapsed buildings. As they inched closer, the lights from the APC sliced through the snowstorm, revealing the skeletal remains of civilization.
"Careful on approach. Terrain's unstable here," Jason advised, gripping the turret controls a little tighter as the driver maneuvered around piles of debris and collapsed infrastructure.
"Drones detected a large structure dead ahead—a bunker entrance," the driver called out. "We'll be there in two minutes if the route stays clear."
"Good. Everyone, check your gear—oxygen, seals, weapons. No screw-ups."
The soldiers inside the APC nodded, each gripping their AR-23 Liberators. Tension hung thick in the air. Everyone knew they were walking into something, they just didn't know what. The last transmission they'd intercepted hadn't left much room for hope.
As they crested a snow-covered ridge, Jason saw the drone hovering near a massive blast door, illuminated in the glare of the APC's floodlights. The bunker entrance loomed like the mouth of some ancient beast, its heavy doors sealed tight, marking what was likely the last refuge of the city's survivors.
"Bring us to a stop," Jason ordered, unbuckling his harness. "I'm heading out. Team follows my lead, weapons hot."
He pulled the side hatch open, stepping into the biting cold. His boots crunched in the snow as he approached the towering blast door. Scanning the perimeter with practiced precision, he noted a manual override system, hidden beneath a layer of ice and snow.
With a grunt, Jason pried open the rusted panel, revealing a corroded hand crank. "Figures," he muttered under his breath. No power meant manual entry. Gripping the handle, he leaned his weight into the crank, his muscles straining as the heavy door groaned in protest, slowly creaking open.
"Alright, we're in," Jason called out, signaling for the APC to follow as the door opened just wide enough for the vehicle and his team to pass.
Inside, the bunker's tunnel sloped downward into darkness, broken only by the APC's lights, casting long shadows against the cracked concrete walls. The air was thick with the staleness of a place long forgotten. As they descended, the tunnel widened into what appeared to be an underground parking facility, lined with abandoned military vehicles, their surfaces coated in dust and frost.
"Looks like the survivors made it here," Jason muttered, his voice echoing in the cold, still air.
"Or at least, some of them did," a soldier replied, tightening his grip on his rifle.
"Alright, SEAF, disembark, and form up. We move on foot from here."
The team filed out, their boots hitting the ground in unison, the hatches of the APC closing behind them with a metallic thud. Jason turned to address them.
"No one moves alone. Flashlights on, weapons at the ready. Sweep the area, and report anything you find. We're not here for a sightseeing tour."
The team acknowledged, flashlights flicking on and cutting through the thick shadows. Jason took point, leading them deeper into the garage, each step filled with the eerie silence of the long-abandoned shelter. Rows of vehicles loomed out of the darkness, casting sinister shapes against the walls.
"Hold," Jason whispered. The scattered shell casings caught his eye—a firefight had taken place here. But where were the bodies?
"Looks like someone tried to hold their ground," a soldier murmured, nudging the casings with his boot. "But why no bodies?"
"Whatever they were fighting," Jason said grimly, "it took them."
That unease was back, gnawing at the edges of his mind. The memory of the outpost's final transmission replayed in his head—the sound of screams and that ominous warning: "It's still here."
Jason led his team to a pair of heavy, blast-proof doors at the far end of the parking structure. Without a word, they stacked up, preparing for a breach.
"On my count," Jason whispered. "Three... two... one."
The doors burst open, slamming against the walls with a metallic clang as they swept their weapons down the dimly lit hallway. Empty. The silence was oppressive, an almost tangible force that pressed in around them, amplifying the echoes of their armored footfalls until each step felt like a death knell. This wasn't right. Something was wrong here. Something they couldn't see, lurking in the shadows, waiting with a malevolent patience.
As they moved deeper into the heart of the outpost, they found themselves in a command center—desks overturned, computer terminals smashed, the remnants of panic etched into every shattered screen. Jason felt an uneasy knot tightening in his stomach as he stepped toward the central office door, his instincts screaming that danger lurked just beyond. Inside, the command room stood eerily untouched, a reinforced floor safe still ajar, its heavy metal door swinging slightly as if inviting him to uncover its secrets.
He pulled it open and found a sealed plastic envelope, the contents preserved thanks to the secure environment. With a mix of dread and determination, Jason laid the papers on the desk, his gloved hands trembling slightly as he began to read.
"They did it. Those bastards opened fire without warning, giving us no time to get everyone down here. We've only managed to shelter 15% of the population. The city is burning, and I can still hear the banging on the doors. I tell myself keeping them shut was the right call, but I don't know anymore…"
Jason's chest tightened as he turned to the next paper, a sense of foreboding creeping in like a cold draft through the room.
"It's been a week since the bombing. No one has come to help us. Supplies should last for a while, given our small numbers, but my biggest worry is the water filtration system. On the bright side, we found a survivor—a little girl. She lost her family but somehow made it through one of the ventilation shafts. She's adjusting well… the only good thing in all of this."
The last paper made Jason's stomach drop, each word feeling like a weight pressing down on his mind.
"We were wrong. That girl… she's not a girl. I don't know what she is, but she's tearing us apart. We've been fighting for an hour, but nothing seems to stop her. If anyone finds this, do not trust anyone. We blindly trusted that thing, and now it's killing us."
Jason set the paper down slowly, dread settling over him like a thick fog. Was that thing still here? The darkness around him felt alive, a predator stalking its prey.
Edited thanks to ELE73CH.