"Stay sharp," Elena’s voice, steady as the morning’s first light, cut through the silence. She looked at the team with a fierceness that belied her calm. "Victor’s lair is just beyond those hills. We’ll face more than just his soldiers."
Adrian’s eyes scanned the desolate landscape—a sea of craters and twisted metal, the remnants of battles long past. The air was thick with the scent of ash and iron. The war-torn path seemed almost alive, groaning under the weight of its history. Every gust of wind was a sigh of the fallen, and every shadow a sentinel of the danger ahead.
A sharp crack echoed through the valley, a bullet zipping past with a hiss, lodging itself in the bark of a withered tree. The team dropped to the ground, a well-rehearsed dance of survival.
"Ambush!" Elena shouted, her voice slicing through the chaos. "Take cover!"
Adrian’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat a drum of war. He ducked behind
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