Absolute silence was more chilling than any scream.
When the electromagnetic storm swept through and extinguished the last flickers of light and sound from every electronic device, the Spearhead Task Force was plunged into true darkness.
The display inside Leah's helmet went black, leaving only the weak beam of her headlamp to illuminate a small patch ahead.
She immediately raised a hand and signaled.
Every member of the team was a battle-hardened elite. They quickly suppressed their initial dizziness and shock.
Carver was the first to move.
He switched off his useless electronic instruments, pulled a glow stick from his belt, and snapped it with a click. Its eerie green light illuminated a small area around them.
The others quickly followed suit, using glow sticks or backup flashlights and headlamps operated by physical switches.
Leah took a deep breath and forced down her anxiety.
She turned to Shane and signed, "Can you still determine our direction?"
Shane's face was pale. He let out a long breath, put away his completely useless scanner, and pulled a purely mechanical compass and a graduated measuring wheel from his backpack.
He studied the compass for several seconds, then used the light to carefully examine the remaining pipe labels on the walls and the door numbers partially obscured by grime. Finally, he nodded to Leah.
Using a fluorescent marker, Shane quickly drew a simple arrow on the floor, pointing toward the approximate location of the central control room.
The task force maintained a tight formation. Carver and Mike took point. Michonne, Turner, and Wells guarded the flanks. Daryl, Merle, and Jonathan brought up the rear. Shane remained in the center to guide them, while the others provided staggered cover.
Once the formation was restored, they continued deeper into the facility, led by Carver and Mike with their riot shields and glow sticks.
The silence did not last long.
As they rounded a heap of collapsed equipment coated in a viscous substance, Michonne abruptly raised a clenched fist from her position on the flank, signaling everyone to stop.
A faint, wet dragging sound came from around the corner ahead, accompanied by the steady plop of dripping liquid. It resembled the sounds made by the mutants they had encountered earlier, but this time it seemed... denser.
Carver and Mike exchanged a glance. Carver bent forward slightly and carefully rolled his glow stick ahead.
The circle of pale green light rolled around the corner, revealing part of what lay beyond.
Three Black Fire mutants were waiting ahead.
They resembled the one the team had encountered earlier. Their torsos were swollen, and each had one grotesquely thick, elongated arm with claws dragging along the floor.
One of them, however, was slightly different.
It leaned against the wall, its skin completely covered in dark brown crystalline growths. It looked as though it were wearing a rough suit of stone armor, and every movement produced a harsh scraping clatter.
The three Black Fire mutants appeared to be drawn to the cold light. All of them turned to "look" toward it at once.
A teeth-grating hiss issued from the holes in the tumor on the "Rock" mutant's head. It suddenly launched itself away from the wall and lunged straight at them.
The other two, seemingly provoked by their companion, charged after it.
Contact!
Without making a sound, Carver slammed his riot shield against the floor, using the dull impact as a warning. At the same time, his rifle spat fire. The suppressor also seemed to have been affected by the interference, and the shots were slightly louder than before.
Bullets struck the charging "Rock" mutant, spraying foul slime into the air, but failed to stop its advance.
Mike opened fire at the same moment, sending controlled bursts toward the fleshy tumor on the "Rock" mutant's head.
Michonne darted out from the side. Reluctant to risk her katana again, she drew a short blade strapped to her thigh and drove it precisely into the softer seam along the second Black Fire mutant's abdomen.
The battle erupted in an instant.
With real-time communication gone, the team relied entirely on long-practiced coordination, eye contact, and hand signals.
Carver braced his riot shield against the head-on charge of one Claw mutant while Jonathan fired and Daryl kept it suppressed with crossbow bolts.
Michonne and Merle fought another Claw mutant.
Mike, Turner, Wells, and the others concentrated their fire on the "Rock" mutant. Bullets hammered against its crystalline armor with a series of sharp impacts.
Shane and four other teammates secured the rear and flanks, watching for further threats in the darkness while searching for opportunities to fire supporting shots.
Leah did not immediately join the frontal engagement.
Her sharp gaze swept across their surroundings.
She suddenly noticed the direction from which the Black Fire mutants had emerged, as well as the varying degrees of contamination crystallization covering their bodies.
A thought flashed through her mind. Were they distributed according to the concentration of the contamination? Did they grow stronger the closer they were to the core?
At the instant her attention wavered, the situation changed again.
The Claw mutant locked in a direct struggle with Carver suddenly abandoned its frontal assault. Its enormous body rolled backward and to the side with startling agility, displaying none of the stiffness its appearance suggested.
Its target was a young National Guard soldier guarding the rear.
"Fuck! Anderson, watch out!"
Leah surged forward and raised her submachine gun.
But Michonne was faster.
She had just pinned the Claw mutant she was fighting to the wall with her short blade. The moment she saw what was happening, she released the weapon without hesitation and slid low across the floor.
As the claw came sweeping down, she drew her katana and slashed upward with all her strength.
"Clang!"
The katana stopped the claw, but the tremendous force numbed Michonne's arm and knocked her off balance.
The Claw mutant's other arm, an ordinary rotting limb, immediately swept toward her face.
At that critical moment, a heavy bang rang out.
Merle had somehow charged into striking range. His right arm was enclosed within the hazmat suit, while the entire mechanical prosthesis was secured outside it.
He drove the heavy mechanical arm solidly into the Claw mutant's ribs, knocking it sideways.
At the same time, he raised his right arm and brought the vicious axe blade mounted at its end down on the joint of the mutant's ordinary arm.
"Crack!"
Dark, viscous blood sprayed out.
Just then, Mike finally found the "Rock" mutant's weak point. A section of its neck was covered by a noticeably thinner layer of crystal.
He fired three precise shots in rapid succession.
The bullets punched through. The "Rock" mutant stiffened, then crashed heavily to the ground and stopped moving.
With the pressure reduced, the team concentrated its fire on the wounded Claw mutant and the other one still struggling against them.
Both were quickly killed.
The battle was over.
"Guys, check your protective suits!" Leah signaled urgently.
The team members inspected one another beneath the beams of their headlamps.
Michonne flexed her numb arm, then shook her head to indicate that she was unharmed.
Merle spat and examined his axe blade. To his dismay, it was coated in corrosive slime and slowly giving off smoke.
Several deep dents had appeared in Carver's riot shield.
Suddenly, Wells let out a muffled cry.
Everyone turned.
Anderson, the young soldier who had been attacked, had collapsed onto the floor. Michonne and Merle had saved him in time, but slime flung by the Claw mutant during its final struggle had splashed across the left shoulder of his protective suit.
A faint wisp of white smoke was rising from it.
The rubber surface was visibly corroded and damaged. Although the substance had not yet penetrated the inner layer, the material surrounding the breach was already turning black.
Anderson's face went deathly pale behind his visor.
Leah immediately stepped forward and pulled specialized sealing tape and a quick-curing patch from her backpack.
"Hold him still! Don't move!"
Wells restrained Anderson.
Leah worked quickly. First, she used a small knife to scrape away the softened, corroded material around the damaged area. Then she wiped it with an alcohol pad over the inner lining. Finally, she pressed a thick, self-adhesive reinforced patch firmly over the breach and held it there until sealant oozed from the edges.
Anderson did not make a sound throughout the entire process.
The patch temporarily sealed the damage, but everyone understood that in an environment saturated with unknown contamination, even the smallest tear in a hazmat suit could become a fatal hazard.
Leah met Anderson's eyes as he struggled to remain calm, then gave his shoulder a firm pat.
She turned to Shane and pointed at the mutant corpses and the surrounding area.
"Jesus!"
Shane gagged, then fought down his nausea. Using his tools, he carefully scraped samples from the "Rock" mutant and the deposits on the nearby walls, sealing them inside specialized sample bags.
At the same time, he examined the pipe labels and structural features of the area, comparing them against the building blueprints. He then showed Leah which direction they needed to take.
According to the blueprints, the route ahead likely led into a large, multilevel reactor vessel workshop, one of the core zones of the accident. The danger would increase sharply once they entered it.
Leah nodded.
She pointed to Anderson and another team member who appeared especially tense, signaling for them to establish a temporary security post at the rear. They were to attempt to repair or reinforce the communication equipment if possible and wait for further instructions.
It was a choice made out of necessity. Taking Anderson deeper into an even more dangerous area with a damaged hazmat suit could cost him his life.
Anderson tried to object, but when he saw Leah's expression and the looks from his teammates, he finally lowered his head and nodded in defeat.
Leah then removed several cans of specially formulated fluorescent spray from her equipment.
She walked to the wall at the corner where the fight had taken place and sprayed a clear fluorescent arrow at eye level, pointing in the direction they were heading.
The team had been reduced again, but its core combat strength remained intact.
They continued along the passage, where the signs of contamination grew increasingly severe. At regular intervals, they left fluorescent markers at major junctions and other visible locations, guiding those who might follow while also marking the route for their eventual return.