A heavy silence settled over the meeting tent. The lead biologist pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he zoomed in on the projection. The grainy footage sharpened, focusing on the twisted carcass of the Surubian Serpent.
"Look here," he said, his voice steady despite the clear tension in the room. The image displayed a close-up of the beast's scales, particularly the jagged, uneven scars running across its serpentine form. "These don't look like wounds from combat or the passage of time. These—" he adjusted the image, marking a particular set of incisions along the creature's underbelly "—are most likely surgical scars."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled personnel. Even Kellen's sharp expression flickered with something akin to unease.
"You're saying this thing was… operated on?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Not just operated on," the biologist clarified, tapping on the interface to highlight similar scars on the Marrow Hound's skeletal plating. "Both these creatures bear signs of invasive modification. And it wasn't done by scavengers or survivors trying to harvest materials. These are precise, intentional incisions. Someone—or something—altered them."
Darnell exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "So what? Some insane scientists decided to carve up beasts and release them into the ruins?"
"That's the problem. It is difficult to tell without a deeper analysis, but these scars look new, or at least far newer than the estimated time of abandonment for this place. Whatever experiments were conducted here didn't end when the nation that this city belonged to fell. They either continued in secret… or something carried them on."
The meeting tent buzzed with quiet tension as the gathered leaders processed the new revelation. The notion that something—or someone—was still conducting experiments in the ruins of Area 69 unsettled even the most hardened among them.
Rion, standing near the back with Vance, chuckled under his breath. "I swear, the more we learn about this place, the worse it gets."
One of the retainers crossed her arms, eyes still fixed on the images. "Could the modifications be recent?"
The biologist hesitated. "There's no way to tell. We'd have to conduct a lot of experiments."
A hush fell over the room.
Kellen inhaled sharply, then turned toward the rest of the assembled personnel. "We have two possibilities: one, we're dealing with remnants of the past—some kind of automated system that's been running all this time. Two, someone is still down here, continuing the work."
"Neither sounds great," Rion muttered.
Kellen ignored him. "Until we have concrete evidence, we assume the worst." Her gaze swept over the gathered personnel and her sharp features hardened with resolve. "Under normal circumstances, I'd advocate for a slow, methodical approach—gradually expanding our perimeter scans, gathering as much intel as possible before making any significant moves."
She exhaled through her mask, tension coiled beneath her voice before continuing. "But we don't have that luxury. We have a one-month deadline to get results. That means we move fast and adapt on the fly."
A murmur of acknowledgment rippled through the assembled teams. No one liked rushing an exploration, especially not in an environment as unpredictable as Area 69. But they all knew what was at stake.
She turned her attention to the gathered teams, her gaze scanning each squad leader in turn. "Here's how we will proceed: each team—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta—will take a quadrant and push outward. Cover as much ground as possible, but don't be reckless. Your primary goal is reconnaissance. Identify key structures, possible points of interest, and—above all else—potential threats."
Some of the squad leaders exchanged glances, already mapping out their strategies in their heads.
"As for Team Epsilon," Kellen continued, motioning toward her own unit which only consisted of lead researchers and high-ranking retainers, "we'll remain at base, ensuring we have a solid fallback point if things go south. We'll also coordinate the operation from here and serve as reinforcements if any team encounters trouble."
She then turned back to the lead biologist, who was still studying the projection of the mutated creatures. "You and your team will conduct a thorough analysis of these carcasses. I want a full breakdown of their biology, modifications, and any signs of foreign materials. If something—or someone—is still running experiments here, we need to understand what they're doing and why."
The biologist nodded, already deep in thought. "I'll need samples from deeper within the tissue to confirm some of my suspicions."
"Take whatever you need," Kellen said. "But keep the bodies intact for now. We don't know if they have any… secondary surprises."
Kellen ignored the look of horror on the biologist's face as he comprehended what she meant and refocused on the broader mission. "Now, about the protocols. Every team will report back at regular intervals. No exceptions. If a team misses a scheduled report, either Epsilon or the closest available unit will investigate."
"What if they don't find anything?" one of the team leaders asked.
Kellen's expression hardened. "If a team goes silent for more than six hours with no sign of distress or interference, we can only assume the worst. There will be no reckless rescue attempts. We analyze the situation first and respond strategically."
A chill passed through the room.
Losing people was always a possibility, but having it spelled out so bluntly reminded everyone of the stakes.
Kellen let her hand drop. "I don't need to tell you how dangerous this place is. This isn't just some long-abandoned ruin. We have clear evidence that something here is still active. That means potential hostiles, environmental hazards, and unknown systems that could still be operational. Do not take risks you don't have to. And don't forget…"
Her eyes swept across the room, lingering on the more seasoned mercenaries. "We're not the only faction here. We assume everything we find could already be someone else's target. So, avoid direct confrontation unless absolutely necessary. If you come across traps, don't assume they were left by the original inhabitants—our competition might have set them up recently."
Kellen stood up before addressing the entire assembly one last time. "Stay sharp. Stick to protocol. And remember—we're not here to conquer this place. We're here to make profit. If anyone lets their ego get in the way of that, they're putting all of us at risk."
With that, she motioned toward the exit. "Final checks. Gear, weapons, comms. All teams deploy in twenty minutes. Dismissed!"
The camp buzzed with activity as the teams prepared for deployment. The low murmur of conversations mixed with the distinct sounds of weapons being checked and recalibrated, comm units being tested, and last-minute adjustments being made to armor and gear. The air smelled of oil, dust, and the sharp, acrid scent of gunpowder as firearms were cleaned, loaded, and readied for use.
Nearby, the other members of Team Gamma were performing their final checks. Stone, Team Gamma's leader, barked orders to his subordinates, ensuring each operative had spare ammunition, rations, and that their comms were functional.
Vance stood near the supply crates, tightening straps on his gear. His light combat vest, reinforced with ballistic plates, felt snug but allowed for flexibility. He adjusted the fit one last time before turning his attention to his rifle. Everything was in place, yet the weight of the mission pressed heavier than the gear on his body.
Rion smirked as he leaned in. "Nervous, daddy?"
"No," Vance replied as he flicked the safety on and off his rifle absentmindedly before slamming in a fresh magazine. "I just think we should've brought more people," he muttered.
Rion chuckled. "Well you know why we couldn't. Besides, we wouldn't be getting paid as much if there were more of us."
"Yeah, but at least we'd have more people to put between us and whatever's out there."
Before Rion could respond, Kellen's voice crackled over the comms. {All teams, this is Command. Final check-in.}
{Alpha Squad, green.}
{Beta Squad, green.}
"Gamma Squad, green," Stone confirmed.
{Delta Squad, green.}
{Good. Move out.}
The teams fanned out, each heading toward their assigned quadrants. Rion and Team Gamma loaded into their convoy of three rugged, six-wheeled transport vehicles. Their engines hummed softly as they rolled out of the base, leaving behind the relative security of their camp and plunging into the ruins of Area 69's western quadrant.
* * *
The convoy rumbled forward, kicking up loose dirt as they moved a significant distance away from base perimeter. The moment they crossed the threshold into the ruins, a silence settled over the group—not out of discipline, but out of instinct.
This stretch of the ruins had been marked as relatively unexplored compared to the other sections. Sparse aerial scans had revealed clusters of collapsed buildings and fractured infrastructure, but beyond that, details were slim.
Rion, positioned near the back of the armored transport, glanced out the reinforced window. Crumbling buildings, stripped of anything valuable long ago, lined the cracked roads. Rusted streetlights bent at odd angles, their bases corroded beyond recognition. Overgrown foliage, roots splitting through concrete like slow-moving invaders, had claimed the cityscape. What was once a bustling metropolis of scientific achievement now looked like a graveyard of human ambition.
The eerie part wasn't just the decay—it was the silence.
No birds. No insects. No wind whistling through the ruined structures. Just the steady hum of their convoy's engines and the distant crackle of radio chatter.
The first few structures they passed were tempting to explore—buildings that might have once been office complexes, residential towers, or small research labs, now reduced to unstable wrecks. Stone, ordered a quick sweep of the first two locations. Teams moved in with practiced efficiency, scanning rooms, sifting through debris, looking for anything of interest.
They found nothing but dust, shattered furniture, and the occasional rusted-out console with no remaining power.
After the third building turned up just as empty, they changed tactics. "Not worth it," Stone muttered. "At this rate, we'll burn non-existent daylight and find nothing but rubble."
"Figures," one of the Shadow Sisters said, shaking her head. "If there's anything left, it'll be deeper in."
Rion agreed. This city had been abandoned for years—most of its small structures were likely stripped clean long ago. Whatever was left to find wouldn't be in places so easily accessible.
The convoy pressed on, weaving through debris-littered streets. Every turn revealed more of the same—skeletal remains of a lost civilization, gutted by time and whatever catastrophe had befallen this place. But as they moved deeper into the quadrant, the landscape began to shift.
The smaller buildings gave way to wider streets and more substantial ruins. Here, the damage was less chaotic, more deliberate. Entire blocks had been leveled, their remains scattered in a way that suggested explosives rather than natural decay. The air was thick with the scent of old smoke and rust, and the occasional gust of wind sent loose debris skittering across the ground.
Rion kept his eyes on the horizon, scanning for anything that stood out. The rest of the team was silent, their attention focused on the environment around them. The driver drove with a steady hand, navigating the uneven terrain with ease. The transport's suspension groaned occasionally, but the vehicle held together, its reinforced frame more than capable of handling the rough terrain.
After what felt like days—though in reality, it had only been a few hours—they reached a point where the smaller buildings began to thin out. The streets widened, and the ruins took on a more industrial feel.
Shattered windows gaped like empty eye sockets. Some buildings bore signs of forced entry—doors blown off their hinges, scorch marks along the walls. Others had strange claw-like gashes, as if something had raked through concrete and steel with unnatural force. But without immediate evidence of activity, they marked the locations on their digital maps and kept moving.
Then, as they turned a corner past a section of collapsed infrastructure, they saw it.
A complex loomed in the distance, far larger than anything they had encountered so far. Unlike the buildings they encountered before, which had crumbled into near-unrecognizable wreckage, this structure still stood strong, its towering walls mostly intact, with only minor damage visible from afar. The complex's presence alone made it a point of interest—any building that remained standing after all these years had to be significant.
Stone adjusted his earpiece. "We've got something. Proceed with caution."
The team instinctively slowed, their convoy rolling to a stop just outside a long-dried-out canal that separated them from the complex. From this distance, they could glean a lot more information about the building.
The first thing they noticed was the perimeter fencing—or what was left of it. A rusted, skeletal frame of what had once been a high-security barrier stretched unevenly around the complex. Most of the fencing had collapsed, its metal posts bent and broken, while other sections lay buried under mounds of dirt.
In a few places, the fencing still stood, though it leaned precariously, its chain links frayed and hanging like tattered curtains. Here and there, remnants of barbed wire clung stubbornly to the top, though it was now so corroded it posed no real threat.
Rion inhaled a mouthful of purified air. "Now that looks promising."