Ruins 2 - The Living City
Carlos, who had been stealthily making his way up until moments ago, now deliberately stomped as he walked. Nova, who had been padding lightly along, started making noise with her footsteps too. What’s going on? Safe from here? But it kinda feels like they’re intentionally making sounds?
Carlos kept striding forward confidently. At last, he halted before a massive double door. He rapped on it with steady knocks—neither too loud nor too soft.
“Who’s there?”
A voice like a hushed whisper echoed out.
Whoa, straight out of a spy flick.
“Enforcer 1st Squad, Captain Carlos.”
“Prove it.”
Carlos pressed his wrist against the door. A bracelet-like tag encircled it—probably some kind of auth key. Soon, a bustle of movement sounded from behind, followed by a faint noise. A tiny beep rang out. The door looked thick as hell, but scanning it was no issue.
A heavy clunk echoed, and the door swung open.
“Welcome, Captain Carlos.”
Two inspectors snapped crisp salutes in perfect form. Their tactical vests were shredded and bloodstained in spots, but their posture was flawless.
Wow, total soldier vibes! Oh, right—they are soldiers.
“Who’s in command here?”
“We’ll escort you.”
The two inspectors pivoted sharply, radiating unyielding cool even unto death. But their limbs are shaking like leaves? Best to play oblivious—that’s polite.
We followed their lead down the hall. No need to gawk rudely, so I just flicked my eyes around. Injuries everywhere. Groans thick with agony drifted from all sides. Most were missing a limb—or rather, from those mangled stumps, it looked more like something had eaten them clean off.
Yup, crystal clear. These two up front are the fittest—just worn out, limbs intact!
“What happened?”
“...A lot. As you see, we can’t move easily. The squad leader—no, company commander—will explain.”
We wove past inspectors biting back screams, hands clamped over wounds. Finally, we reached what looked like a private office. One knocked.
“Company Commander Miguel, 1st Squad has arrived.”
“What! Really?”
Frantic footsteps thundered—guy’s in a real panic; relax, we’re not bolting!
Before the inspector could open it, the door flew wide from inside. Commander Miguel eyed his squadmate once, then average-height Carlos once, and saluted sharp.
“You got here fast. Company Commander Miguel—at least, newly promoted.”
Carlos’s gaze swept Miguel’s uniform. I peeked at the rank insignia too.
“Pleased to meet you.”
Everyone’s been tripping over titles—Miguel was a lieutenant? What kinda clusterfuck lets you skyrocket like that?
“Come in. So much to explain.”
We stepped inside. He yanked out chairs for us like it was urgent. Hmm. Less grizzled commander, more coffee-fetching newbie. Hehe, getting served by a lieutenant—enforcer squad was the right call!
Miguel paused mid-pull, clocking my rank. His eyes lingered a beat. What, beef with sergeants?!
He said nothing, just eyed me with faint curiosity.
“Time’s critical—quick summary. 1st Company was surveying the ruins, found survivors. Previous commander ordered rescue.”
Miguel gulped hard. Ooh, tension means bombshell incoming?
“Then we faced a 5.0 stage stationary cadaver—the Infiltration Origin.”
Miguel’s hands trembled. His gaze darted wildly.
“This city... it’s alive! By the time we hit the center and realized... too late. We fled desperately; a few squads escaped, but look around—tons injured.”
He pleaded at Carlos with desperate eyes.
“Still... squads out there alive. Their screams crackle over the radio every night. Short-range picks up signals constantly. Not just comrades—everything’s there: beacon data, supplies, transports. Please... can you help?”
Damn, not even passing the buck—he straight-up dumped the whole mess!
Carlos said he’d consider it and left—dragging me and Nova along. Secret op huddle? Can I even sit in? Usually Rira tags instead.
“Nova, thoughts?”
“Insufficient data. Can’t assess.”
Nova-chan hits pause right away. Fair—no size, weaknesses, key deets.
“Inspector Nera, your take?”
Me too? Whoa, for real? Thought they’d ditch me post-fetch. Time to shine, ‘talented sharp-witted all-purpose idol-sec Nera MK.3’!
“They’re mostly dead. Suspicious as hell. A massive area cadaver big enough to evade easy scanning misses a whole company? More red flags: barely any other cadaver types here. Just stationary ones. No mobiles spotted. Bet it devoured surroundings growing to 5.0 stage—others steer clear naturally. Sensors blank it, so linker powers too.”
Pro breakdown, right? Pure blood-sweat secret sauce!
“So, rescue feasible?”
Wordy much? “No dice.” Pure suicide! Radio screams suspicious from jump! Smart cadaver clueless on radios? Nah—cadavers got brains, sharper than beasts. Nightly signals? Obvious lure. Baiting prey when local snacks run dry.
No Rira? I say nix it!
“Spot on, all of you.”
Classic Carlos. 1st Squad captain means ice-cold calls.
“Impressed, honestly. Didn’t expect you’d catalog minutiae like that.”
Yup, bask in my genius glow.
“But.”
...Why the pivot? All that setup?
“We’re doing the rescue. Won’t abandon the company’s mission. That’s my judgment.”
Hmm? Greedy and suicidal?
“Why?”
“One truth: Nothing’s impossible for 1st Squad. No mission gets ditched.”
Sudden ego flex? Risky ops need backing!
“Agree.”
Bolt from blue! Nova-chan, thought you were the rational one...
“You stay here.”
Dumping me mid-fest.
“For your sake. Normally, you’d sync as squadmate—but situation’s different.”
Comforting me? Expected icy ‘you’re in the way’ or ‘unneeded.’
“Still, want your cadaver read.”
Smart—grab intel first!
Post-brief, Carlos snagged the radio from the commander and bailed the building. Nothing fancy in my spiel: smart specimen, mind the traps—no poking the bear!
Area types pack weak punch—4.0 stage tops, peanuts normally. (1st Squad view, anyway!) Issue’s the grind. No sleep, pounce on any slip: tentacles from underground! Spawn cadaver minions! Whatever. Inspectors hold an hour, two—as Star-adapted super-soldiers!
But days on end? Fatigue claims all. Biology has limits. Exhausted? Dinner.
Ah, why inspectors look extra wrecked.
What now? Nada for me here. Nurse wounded? Not my gig.
Speaking of—Carlos moves just like old me. Slick competence masking risky plays. I chased ‘possible’ quests for loot, skipped hard mode. Wasted time failing anyway.
But real world—no fat rewards. Curious. Or shrugs off risk? Area types = easy farms. Nova could dip in-out. Mission tho? Origin cockblocks. Ride its trap course: lose squad, botch op, boom vehicles, bye supplies.
Carlos lives, sure... but half-dead hostages? Nah, even he can’t save ’em all.
Time to bail. Sitting’s torture! Craving that bio theme park vibe! Hehe, how fun’ll Infiltration Origin get?
I slipped into an isolated room, dodging inspector stares. No hunt for me—they’re zonked, barely clocked my arrival.
Hopping buildings easy, I scoped terrain first. Distant from core: Carlos and Nova visible. Carlos’d vault low-rises sans Nova slowing him...
Swiveled gaze. Core had living folk! Kinda. Bleeding profusely, impaled on flesh skewers.
Ew, nasty. Mimic trees at least. No disguise need at core—mutation maxed for outer camouflage?
Cadaver hobbies = twisted.
Scanned more. Beyond glaring skewers, zilch standout. All hunkered? Not total takeover—real buildings mixed in. Survivors lucked into one?
Focused senses. Cadaver signals? Muddled—flooded omnidirectional inside range. Block outer, blitz inner for chaos.
Smarter than expected?