Chapter 94: The Warlord Legacies
SQUELCH. SQUELCH.
The heavy combat boots of the Special Class sank into the toxic mud of Sector 44-J. The twelve-hour trek back to Bastion Seven had begun.
The atmosphere within the squad had fundamentally shifted. The petty rivalries and the arrogance of the Vanguard elite were completely gone.
In their place was a terrifying, cold cohesion. They moved as a single, lethal unit, guided by a new, absolute faith.
And at the center of their formation walked Draven.
They treated him with a profound, unspoken respect. Aegon no longer barked orders without glancing at Draven first.
Lucien cleared the path ahead, eager to prove his worth. Even Bram, the stoic giant, offered Draven the clearest footing through the ruins.
The expedition had been brutally effective.
Surviving the dense Miasma, butchering the Hive Mother, and fighting their way through the endless red fog had pushed their limits.
