The old commander stood like stone beneath the cold night sky, his gloved hands tightening around his radio. A flicker of guilt crossed his face—but only for a moment. He let out a long, weary breath.
"Ready the weapons," he said lowly, voice like iron wrapped in ash. "Begin with the smoke."
Within seconds, the first smoke bombs were launched over the outer walls. They hissed as they burst across the school grounds—thick, black clouds unfurled like an ominous tide, swallowing every shape and form in their path.
Inside the compound, panic erupted.
"Shit!" Yunfeng coughed, covering Muchen with his arm as the smoke choked their vision. "Stay close! Don't get separated!"
The fog clawed at their eyes, their lungs. Even the moans of the infected became distorted and disoriented, stumbling just as blindly through the thick darkness.
They were blind.
Everything was a silhouette, a breath, a tremble.
