FSN Secure Operations Division
Mission Continuation Log 072-B
Classification Level: Shadow Clearance
Location: Ruins Sector, Mt. Ebott Subsurface Zone
Objective: Ongoing search and recovery of five missing persons. Contact with hostile nonhuman entity confirmed. Requesting immediate reinforcement.
0743 Hours — Inner Ruins Sector
The corridor bled into a long stone hallway, lined with decaying pillars and rusted brass torches long since cold. A soft lavender hue pulsed weakly along the walls, cast from embedded hexagonal lights barely clinging to life. Cracks ran through the floor like veins.
Rennik scanned the area through his HUD. "Zeta-1 to Central. Continuing search pattern. No sign of civilians. Initial contact—hostile entity. Medium-class anomalous. Capable of projection-grade flame."
The response was garbled.
"…Copy that… vis… degrades… rnf… evac threshold at 55%…"
"Signal's deteriorating fast," Echo warned. "We're at 61% sync across uplink. If it drops below fifty—"
"We call for backup," Rennik finished.
They advanced past a partially collapsed wall. Vines and roots from the mountain above had pierced through the stone, dragging in dirt, moss, and the illusion of life. But the walls beyond were unnatural—metallic veins pulsing faintly, systems clearly long defunct. FSN tech hadn't evolved to this level yet.
"This place wasn't made by us," Chisel muttered. "And it wasn't made yesterday."
"It's older than the war," Echo said. "Older than the FSN. Maybe older than recorded time."
Runt stepped toward a ruined archway. The room beyond had partially collapsed, ceiling sunken in a perfect dome. Among the rubble were toys. A faded scarf. A child's shoe — too new to match the age of the ruins.
"Sir…" he said quietly. "We found something."
Rennik knelt. The shoe was size 4C. Black Velcro straps. A speckled sticker of a cartoon lizard half-peeled off.
One of the missing.
0758 Hours — Hostile Encounter: Class-One Monster
Something skittered from the shadows.
A stubby creature — round, gelatinous, yellow, with misshapen limbs and eyes that blinked independently. It let out a wet hiss and stumbled toward them.
"Contact—front!" Brick shouted.
The creature lunged at Echo, a clumsy leap, claws raised.
Pzzzzzt!
A single burst from Runt's laser rifle hit it mid-air. The creature exploded in a puff of light, dissolving into ash and flakes of red.
"What the hell was that?" Runt asked, lowering his weapon.
"Some kind of minor-class hostile," Echo said. "No armor. No shielding. It… evaporated."
"No physical remains?" Chisel knelt. "Not even bones."
Rennik scanned the residual field with his wristpad. "It's like it was never organic to begin with. Just… magic."
He hated that word. "Magic" was a label they slapped on anything tech couldn't explain.
0809 Hours — Comm Threshold Reached
"Sir," Echo said, "we're at 49%."
Rennik exhaled. "Alright. Protocol Kilo-3. Request a drop team."
Chisel nodded and keyed his arm console. "Central, this is Zeta-9, priority override. Signal threshold compromised. Requesting Omega support squad for reinforcement. Estimate 6+ bodies in play. One anomalous Tier-B hostile confirmed. Multiple minor threats encountered."
A pause. Then, faintly: "…Omega-4 acknowledged… ETA two hours… maintain position if possible…"
The line popped and went dead.
0817 Hours — Observation
The squad pushed deeper into the ruins.
Past what once might have been homes carved into walls, doors long rotted, plumbing systems collapsed. Rust coated everything that wasn't stone. Distant pipes groaned softly, still alive somehow — like the Underground itself refused to die.
"I don't get it," Runt whispered. "No sign of modern human life. No traces of the kids beyond that shoe. But we've got lights still working, tech partially active. And that thing earlier — it fought like it had thoughts."
"There was civilization here," Echo said. "Built by something nonhuman. And it either left… or died off."
"No," Rennik corrected. "Something's still here."
0830 Hours — Second Contact
Chisel was first to spot the movement. "Left flank—hallway arch!"
They spun. A familiar figure stepped out — massive, cloaked in burnt linen and stained fur, her body hunched, breathing heavy. Dried blood still matted her claws.
The beast from before.
She hadn't healed.
Burn marks from the last encounter still seared her torso. Laser damage, darkened and scarred. Her eyes burned with recognition.
"Open fire!" Rennik ordered.
Three rifles lit the corridor. Energy bolts slammed into her chest and shoulders — she flinched but didn't fall.
Chisel activated his forearm blade. The plasma ignited with a snap.
The creature snarled — a deep, guttural sound not meant for human ears — and charged.
She tackled Runt, slamming into him like a freight train. His armor absorbed the brunt, internal shock mounts flaring red. He grunted but stayed upright.
She swiped at him — claws raked against his chestplate, leaving shallow scratches in inch-thick durasteel.
Then she turned — fire igniting in her palm once more.
"Fireball!" Echo shouted.
She hurled it high — striking a support beam. The ceiling above buckled with a crash, stone and rusted metal raining down. The squad scattered.
By the time the dust cleared, she was gone again.
"She's watching us," Rennik said. "Testing our response times. Tactics. Weak points."
"And learning," Echo added. "She's not an animal."
"No," Chisel said grimly. "She's worse. She remembers what it's like to possess civilized sentience."
Rennik turned to his HUD. "Adjust your output settings. Rifles to Combat Mode Three. Swords to full charge. From here on out, we use maximum output against confirmed hostiles."
The squad acknowledged, and energy systems across their suits began to hum louder. Battery monitors flickered red as output rose. Plasma blades brightened, casting harsh light against the walls.
"If we see her again," Rennik said, "we don't hold back."
0855 Hours — Holding Pattern
They regrouped in a secure chamber — once a classroom, maybe, now rusted desks and ancient scrolls scattered across the floor. Echo managed to splice into a broken terminal with a jury-rigged uplink.
"Fragments of local memory. Text logs. Old calendars. Some kind of royal lineage—there were leaders down here. Kings. Queens. Teachers. Monsters that built schools for kids. This wasn't just a prison."
"Or if it was," Brick said, "it wasn't just for criminals."
"What about the degradation?" Runt asked. "Some of these rooms are melted. But others are just… old."
Rennik stood silent.
They all knew parts of the area had been structurally damaged decades ago — but none of it explained what they were walking through now. Or what was waiting.
"Get what data you can," Rennik ordered. "Omega-4 will be here in ninety minutes. We stay alert."
Echo pulled another feed from the terminal — this time, a security log. It showed static, then a small figure wandering a hallway.
A human child.
"Sir," Echo whispered. "Time-stamp reads… five days ago."
Rennik stared at the screen.
"I want that corridor found. Now."