Dmitri and his squad arrived. Behind, the two agents followed.
The stench of rot filled the area with unease and an aura of death.
"What kind of monstrosity does this?" Johannes gripped the container’s edge tightly, his hands shivering upon the sight in front of him.
Human corpses piled on the center, their halves torn apart in an irregular manner. Innards stretched on the dusted road, happily munched on by white maggots.
Dmitri tilted his head, cuing to the squad.
One of them went to the right corner. As he glanced above, he saw a large patch of blood painted on the building before him.
There, a few limbs and heads were stuck on the walls, glued to the concrete with the dried blood.
"Found the other end, Actual," the Scout said on the comms. "Hidden behind the blue tarp. Another mess in here."
"All teams, we have an unknown threat," Dmitri realized that things has gotten out of hand. "Target is massive, behavior looks hostile. Eagle One and Two, what’s your status?"
"In position, Echo Actual," Zolyah replied, adjusting her sights. "Compound looks empty up here."
"Bulldog One?"
"Pinned in the entrance," came the reply. "Detour’s not possible. Building’s cracked like an egg. Don’t want to risk it."
Dmitri absorbed the reports without comment.
The plan seemed to be falling apart in a pace he didn’t expect. Not only was the compound empty, but the deaths of these people were too mysterious to investigate.
The evidence was there, but why would they want to follow the trail? Just the thought of that four-meter footprint gave him chills.
This wasn’t Elias’ doing, that he could confirm. And whatever has done this was no simple creature.
"Search the area," Dmitri ordered, "Look for anything we can use."
Then he turned to the two agents.
"Take me to where Elias keeps his assets," Dmitri said.
Johannes led the way, weaving through layered clusters of corpses that had fused into the asphalt like a second skin. The smell thickened as they moved, old death pressed into concrete.
They stopped in front of a convenience store.
"Elias worked here, part-time," Johannes narrated. "Places like this, people will talk. You listen long enough and the patterns will show."
Dmitri scanned the interior through the cracked glass. The cabinets were empty. The shelves void of anything with value. Anything that remained were either rotten or had long been consumed.
"He doesn’t strike me as subtle," Dmitri stole a glance to Evelyn.
Her face lowered, but under, an expression of regret and sadness revealed itself. As if every call of that name pinned a nail to her heart and struck a memory in her mind.
"He was," Johannes circled around the sections. "That was the lie. Elias talked so much you stopped paying attention to what he never talked about."
Dmitri stepped behind the counter.
"Don’t bother," Johannes shook his head. "That’s where everyone looks. Over here."
He pushed open the staff-only door instead.
The corridor was dark and narrow. On the left was the bathroom, the ajar door creaking softly.
Johannes turned to the right, passed through a backroom door, and moved forward into the storage room.
It smelled of dust and old cardboard. Crates were stacked haphazardly, the staff having no regard for their safety.
Locks, absent. Reinforcements, gone to the wind.
Johannes slowed down. His eyes didn’t search randomly—they were checking.
"There," he said.
A wooden crate sat beneath a collapsed shelf. On top of it rested a small plastic action figurine, faded and cheap.
"How do you know?" Dmitri asked.
Johannes picked it up, turned it once, then placed it back. Now, the figurine’s body faced to the wall.
Something inside the crate clicked. A section of the floor fell, thumping loudly as it did.
"I told you, he’s great at martial arts," Johannes smirked, "And a fan of media portraying those."
Dmitri glanced at him.
Darkness pressed close around them. The hidden compartment underground breathed out cold air.
Inside were sealed bags, weapons wrapped in thick clothing, and documents laminated to perfection.
All of it wasn’t hoarded. They were catalogued.
Dmitri’s expression became curious and jumped down. He turned his attention to the walls, nudging the images pinned on the dirt.
"A crafty man. Setups like this, how did you do it?"
"A lot of money can do the talking," Johannes jumped after him. "If not, a little threat would work."
"And if it doesn’t?"
"Time for a change of hands. You don’t like the people? Replace them."
"That’s dirtier than this place."
"Everyone’s got a price to pay," Johannes pulled out a drawer. "You just need to understand your worth."
His eyes adjusted after a while, the edges sharpening, the depth returning.
"He was here," Johannes exhaled slowly, the drawer empty.
"Recently?" Dmitri asked.
Johannes stepped back, nudging a stack of folders with his boot. Dust hadn’t settled yet, but Elias’s trail did.
"Should be a few days ago," he inspected.
Dmitri switched to his NVG and went deeper. He crouched, picking up a document.
The paper was old, pre-collapse old. Printed headers and SAS watermarks.
"Archived briefs," Dmitri said, handing them over. "Feel familiar to you?"
"He kept copies," Johannes nodded. "Everyone did, but not this much."
The room was a mess, looking like someone was working their way through everything.
Files pulled out and pushed aside. Notes layered over countless notes. Ink scrawled hard in places, faint in others, as if Elias’s strength came, then went away while he wrote.
Dmitri flipped through a ledger. "Your man seems to be in a hurry. Reviewing things, who would do that?"
"Checking what he already knew or forgotten."
Johannes leaned against the wall, "Patches of faint blood here. He’s injured."
Evelyn stood near the back, remaining silent. The darkness hid the fists that had long hardened from her tight clenching.
Her eyes tracked the disorder, seeing a path only she would know.
"He’s looking for something," she said. "He wouldn’t tear it up like this otherwise."
Johannes glanced at her.
Dmitri paused at a cluster of documents pinned together with a bent clip.
Financial disclosures. Property holdings. Circled names. Even Hans’s ex-apartment manager was included.
One district name appeared again and again. At times, underlined, other moments boxed, sometimes just written larger than the rest.
"Pandora," Dmitri said.
Johannes jaw tightened, recalling a memory, "Of course."
Dmitri scanned the margins, "He cross-referenced asset density. Private medical facilities. Security footprints. Even classified information."
He looked up, "This isn’t a safehouse search."
"A supply hunt," Johannes answered without hesitation. "HELIX III."
He slowly exhaled.
"Place was attacked. Whatever hit them left Elias and his lieutenants crippled. They couldn’t bother to take from us, not with their condition."
"And Pandora was the chest he needed to open," Dmitri added. "These names—"
He flicked the documents into Johannes. It contained profiles of rich men, or people with high standing.
Scientists. Researchers. Businessmen. Politicians. Government officials in high positions.
Each one dirtier than the last.
"Project HELIX’s sponsors," Johannes sighed. "Elias must be after them, or whatever’s left of it."
"Then we need to move," Dmitri turned to the exit, then passed through the crestfallen Evelyn. His ears twitched, her soft voice barely enough for him to hear.
"He was in pain..."
Dmitri stopped. Not because of the words—but because of how they were said. He looked at her. Really looked closely this time.
Johannes shifted, just slightly, as if bracing for something he couldn’t intercept.
"Death will be his mercy," he spoke after a moment of silence. "You said it yourself; you want him dead."
Evelyn swallowed. Her fingers curled once, then relaxed.
"I know."
One may yearn for their grievance to be solved, but as the opportunity neared, something inside her seems to beg otherwise.
Johannes watched her for a second longer than necessary. Then he turned away.
"Let’s go," he said. "Before what’s left of him gets what he wants."