The first slivers of dawn, grey and unforgiving, pierced the grime-streaked windows of the parking garage, painting the silent camp in stark relief.
They had made it through the night.
The air, heavy with the chill of the early morning and the scent of damp concrete, gradually filled with the muted sounds of a camp stirring to life.
The faint clink of gear, the soft crunch of boots on debris, hushed voices filled the area as everyone packed in a haste.
Mara, ever the first to rise, was already at the edge of the perimeter, surveying the desolate urban landscape with her keen, experienced eyes.
Ashen, having managed only a few hours of pitiful sleep, found her there after checking on Elara, who was still thankfully lost in the depths of slumber.
Mara's face was etched with the weariness of constant vigilance, but her posture remained straight, resolute.
"Morning" she greeted when she spotted him approaching, her voice a low, gravelly tone, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Good morning." He replied back " In which direction are we off to today?"
"I've located a potential site." She gestured with a gloved hand towards the northeast, towards a cluster of monolithic structures slightly less ravaged than the rest of the cityscape.
"Old City Hall complex. It's a risk, given its former prominence, but the main building is surprisingly intact, massive concrete walls, and it has an underground access point we spotted on the satellite scans."
Ashen followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing.
It was a former government building.
"When did you guys have time to scout it out?"
"Woke up early." She replied with a shrug.
From this angle the building looked almost intact with just some holes here and there, and some moss growing around the conners.
But there was still a lot of potential dangers that might be lurking within it.
"Looks sturdy."
"It is," Mara confirmed, her gaze unwavering.
"More importantly, it offers natural chokepoints. And it's far enough from the last drone sighting."
She turned, her eyes sweeping over the awakening camp, already pinpointing key personnel.
"Jax! Rill!" Mara's voice cut through the morning air, clear and commanding. Both individuals, already finishing their meager breakfast, snapped to attention. "Assemble a survey team. Four members from the Strike Unit. I want a full sweep of the City Hall complex. Perimeter, interior, and especially that underground access. Check for structural integrity, clear lines of sight, any signs of recent activity, mutated fauna, or... anything else. Report back before midday. Move."
The strike team members, grim-faced and efficient, began to gather their rifles and specialized scanning equipment.
The air crackled with a renewed sense of purpose, tempered by the ever-present understanding of the deadly world they inhabited.
**********
The four other members of the strike team joined Ashen, Rill, and Jax at the gaping entrance of the parking garage.
The leader of their squad, an old man whose weathered face was framed by a kind, almost benevolent smile, greeted them.
"Uncle Max," Ashen said, a rare, slight smile touching his lips. "It seems we will be in your care today."
Max let out a hearty, rumbling chuckle that seemed to vibrate through the ruined concrete. "Hahaha, Ashen, I see you're still as humble as always! We are the ones who will be in your care, boy. Without you guys, your keen eyes and sharp senses, we would be dead before we even knew what happened."
What he said wasn't really a lie. Ashen and his small team had saved their lives numerous times, just because of their uncanny ability to sense the most subtle details in their surroundings, to warn the convoy in time of any approaching threat, be it a mutated beast or a hidden raider trap.
They set off immediately, a tight, disciplined formation, making sure to stay on the cracked, elevated path of what was once a bustling highway.
The morning air was crisp but still carried the scent of dust and decay, a constant reminder of the world they now inhabited.
After a brisk twenty-minute walk, they arrived at the City Hall complex.
It was a leviathan of concrete and glass, even in its ruin.
The main building, a brutalist monolith of grey stone, still stood remarkably intact, its towering facade pocked by ancient artillery fire but largely unbreached.
Its upper floors, once filled with bustling offices, now stared out like vacant eyes. Flanking it were smaller, less resilient structures, partially collapsed, their skeletal remains reaching like broken fingers towards the sky. The sheer scale of it was daunting, a silent sentinel of a bygone era.
They began their cautious approach, circling the outside of the immense building a couple of times.
Their eyes, trained for the slightest anomaly, scanned every shadow, every broken window, every potential entrance.
They were meticulous, looking for any sign that another convoy might have already claimed it, or worse, that an Altered with territorial instincts might be lurking within.
The silence was absolute, save for the whisper of the wind.
After making absolutely sure there were no overt signs of life from the outside, no strange scents, no recent tracks, no unsettling sounds, they moved in.
Their entry point was one of the collapsed doors on the ground floor, a gaping maw in the solid wall. They stepped into the lower floor, instantly engulfed by a profound darkness and a heavy, tomb-like silence. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and stagnant dust.
"So, what's the plan?" Max asked, his voice a low rumble, instantly subdued by the oppressive quiet of the interior.
"Same as last time," Rill replied, her voice equally hushed. "We need to create some noise within a certain area to gauge if anything is currently hiding somewhere. A loud enough sound to disturb any potential inhabitants, but not so loud it brings down the ceiling." She glanced at Jax.
"Let's start from the top floor," Jax suggested, a nervous energy about him, "since that's the most unlikely place for there to be any immediate danger."
And so they moved, a disciplined unit, flashlights cutting narrow beams through the oppressive gloom, up the crumbling stairwells.
Each step echoed ominously, magnified by the building's vast, empty chambers.
They ascended all the way to the very top floor. It was surprisingly open, dominated by what might have once been a grand hall, with three smaller, distinct rooms off to one side.
They moved to the center of the expansive space, a natural testing ground.
Jax pulled from his bag a wired-looking ball, about the size of a fist, that seemed to be made out of dull, grey metal.
He set it carefully on the concrete floor.
Next, he pressed a small button that was nestled at the top of the device, and everyone immediately stepped back, their weapons ready.
The ball vibrated slightly, a low hum, then suddenly shot upward with surprising force, hitting the ceiling with a resounding thong. It plummeted back down, striking the floor with another thong, then bounced once, twice, three, four, five times, each impact producing a loud but strangely controlled thong that reverberated through the upper floors of the building. The sound, engineered to travel, wasn't deafening but was certainly enough to disturb any sleeping beast or lurking threat.
Everyone remained absolutely silent, holding their breath, their ears straining. They listened intently for any response—a rustle, a growl, a scuttling sound, the distant crash of debris. But after two minutes of agonizing waiting, they didn't hear anything. The building remained as silent and dead as before.
"I guess we're all clear up here," Max finally said, his voice laced with relief. "Let's head down."
They retrieved the peculiar ball, its job for that floor done, and cautiously moved to the next floor down.
They repeated the exact same steps, deploying the sound-emitting device, waiting in tense silence. And again, there was nothing.