Early morning light filtered through the grimy windows of the jeep, slicing through the dusty interior and landing squarely on Ghost's face. He grunted, the harsh brightness pulling him from the thin threads of restless sleep. Outside, a sharp knock on the door echoed, followed by Soap's cheerful, if slightly teasing, voice. "Up and at 'em, sunshine! The boss has caught wind of something."

Ghost groaned and swung his legs over the edge of the seat, stiffly stretching his arms until his shoulders popped. With a sigh, he opened the door, stepping into the cool morning air. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked at Soap. "So, where to?"

Soap didn't answer directly, just gestured for Ghost to follow. Together, they made their way toward one of the nearby buildings. The structure was dilapidated, its walls cracked and weathered by years of neglect. Vines and moss crept up the sides like nature's own graffiti. The interior was worse, a tomb of broken furniture and shattered glass. And among the debris... skeletons.

Ghost froze mid-step, his breath catching as his eyes locked onto the unmistakable remains scattered across the floor. The bones, bleached by time, lay in eerie disarray, some still draped in tattered shreds of fabric. Soap noticed Ghost's hesitation and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yeah... about that."

Price's voice cut in, steady but grim. "There are dead people here," he said simply, crouching to examine a skeleton more closely. He nudged a skull with the back of his gloved hand, and it rolled slightly, revealing a bullet hole clean through the cranium. He grunted, his face tightening as he stood.

Ghost's gaze didn't waver. "I thought everyone left when this place was evacuated," he said, his tone low and skeptical.

"That was the official story," Gaz chimed in, his voice tinged with unease. He leaned against a crumbling doorway, his hand resting near his holstered weapon. "But this? This doesn't look like a proper evacuation. Looks more like a massacre."

Price nodded, his expression dark. "Aye. Whatever happened here, they didn't just pack up and leave. Someone made sure they never got the chance."

Ghost's hand instinctively went to his knife, his senses sharpening. "So what's the plan, then? We investigating, or are we pulling out before we join the pile?"

Price glanced around the room, his sharp eyes sweeping every corner. "We're staying. The higher-ups want answers, and so do I." He straightened, his hand resting on his rifle. "But keep your eyes peeled. Whatever did this... might still be around."

Soap gave a mock shiver, nudging Ghost. "Nothing like starting the day with a bit of light death and mystery, eh?"

Ghost didn't respond, his eyes locked on the skeletons. His voice came soft but firm. "Let's just make sure we're not next."

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Solraya hummed a quiet tune as she meandered down a narrow, pebble-strewn path, her tail swaying gently behind her. The abandoned city around her was both haunting and beautiful, its silent streets whispering stories of the humans who had once called it home. Sunlight filtered through the broken windows of crumbling buildings, casting strange, jagged shadows on the ground. Her mother had left earlier for something "important," leaving Solraya strict instructions: Stay within the boundaries.

So far, she'd obeyed. Mostly.

She wandered through the deserted avenues, her keen eyes darting from the remnants of rusted vehicles to toppled lamp posts. Her claws clicked faintly against the stones as she walked, her thoughts wandering as freely as her feet.

But then, she froze.

A strange scent drifted through the air, faint but unmistakable. Humans. Her head snapped up, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply. The scent wasn't old, either; it was fresh, alive, carrying with it the tang of sweat, metal, and something earthy.

Solraya hissed softly, a primal instinct bubbling to the surface. Her beige scales shimmered in the fading light as she crouched low, her movements slow and deliberate. The frills around her face shifted and expanded ever so slightly, making her appear larger and more intimidating.

She crept forward, her body brushing against overgrown foliage as she closed the distance. The abandoned city around her fell silent, as though even the wind had stopped to watch.

Finally, she spotted them.

Ahead, nestled within a clearing of broken concrete and twisted metal, was a campsite. A group of military men sat around makeshift tables, their weapons casually slung nearby. They were eating rations, their voices low but steady as they spoke. Solraya couldn't make out their words, but she could see the way they carried themselves—strong, disciplined, and confident.

She tilted her head, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. The patches on their uniforms, the shine of their boots, the way one of them glanced over his shoulder every few seconds. They were alert, but not enough for her liking. "Fools," she thought, the corners of her mouth curling into a faint, predatory smile.

The sky deepened to a rich orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, and shadows stretched long and thin, creeping across the ground like silent specters. Solraya stayed where she was, hidden within the gloom, her heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and excitement.

Her mind drifted to tomorrow. What would her mother think of this discovery? Vyralith wasn't one to shy away from bold decisions. If the humans stayed too long, they might indeed find themselves on the menu. The thought brought a mischievous glint to Solraya's eyes.

She imagined prowling the ruins with her mother, their sleek forms cutting through the city like whispers of death. She could practically taste the thrill of the hunt, the satisfying crunch of armor and bone. These humans might think themselves predators, but to dragons, they were little more than vulnerable prey.

For now, though, Solraya waited. She remained still as a statue, watching the humans settle into their evening routines. If she played her cards right, tomorrow might bring more than just curiosity—it might bring a feast.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Ghost set his ration pack down on the cracked steps of the abandoned warehouse, his gloved hands brushing away the thin layer of dust that clung to the cold concrete. He adjusted his mask slightly and leaned back, his sharp eyes never straying far from the darkened ruins surrounding them. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the faint rustle of distant leaves or the occasional creak of the dilapidated building. He had volunteered for guard duty tonight—it wasn't so much a choice as an instinct. In places like these, vigilance was a survival skill, not an option.

The shadows seemed alive, shifting and twisting as though they carried secrets of their own. Every corner of the ruined landscape held a story, most of them forgotten, but some Ghost wasn't eager to learn firsthand.

The creak of the warehouse door pulled him from his thoughts. Gaz stepped out, his posture slouched and his expression groggy, as if dragged from the depths of some restless dream. He squinted at Ghost through the dim light, his voice heavy with sleep. "You still up?"

Ghost didn't look at him, his gaze fixed on the ruins stretching out before them. "Need to be," he replied simply, his voice low and measured. "One can never know what lurks here." His words carried a weight that required no embellishment.

Gaz grumbled something incoherent as he shuffled over and dropped down onto the steps beside him. He stretched out his legs, wincing slightly as his knees cracked, and pulled a small flask from his jacket. Unscrewing the cap, he took a swig of the brine inside, the salty tang bringing him back to full awareness. "Captain says we're moving base tomorrow," he murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Might even patrol the area a bit more. Make sure we're not leaving any surprises behind."

Ghost hummed in acknowledgment, though his eyes never stopped scanning the horizon. The ruins were deceptively still, as though holding their breath. "This place feels... off," he muttered after a moment. His tone was calm, but there was a tension in his words, a quiet readiness for whatever might come.

Gaz followed Ghost's gaze, his tired eyes flicking between the shattered remnants of buildings and the thick shadows that pooled between them. He leaned back, sighing heavily. "Off or not, it's the same as anywhere else these days. Just one big graveyard with no one left to mourn."

The two men lapsed into silence, a shared understanding settling between them. There was no need for further words; the weight of their mission, of the world they moved through, was enough to fill the void.

Time passed slowly as they sat together on the steps, the oppressive quiet of the abandoned warehouse pressing down on them. Yet neither of them moved, their bodies still but their minds alert. Here in the ruins, caution was their only companion.