After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dense, twisted alien forest, Kara and her crew finally emerged at the edge of the ancient Soomite city. The towering structures ahead shimmered in the dim light, looming over the group like silent sentinels guarding the forgotten past. The roads were eerily empty, with angular buildings and strange, needle-like platforms rising in the distance, their once-bright symbols now dim. The city stretched out in a perfect circle, two kilometers in diameter, its abandoned streets filled with the haunting echoes of a civilization long gone.

Kara paused at the threshold, her gaze sweeping across the maze of streets and towering architecture. Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade, a familiar weight that brought her focus back into sharp clarity.

“Where would they hide knowledge?” she muttered to herself. An alien library or a place with records—anything that could hold the secrets of the Soomites.

Zera, always listening, overheard her. "One of the symbols back at the trail sign—it represented 'The Center.’ I think it means a central hub of knowledge or control. We should head to the middle of the city." She pointed toward the horizon, where the tallest space-needle structure loomed. “That’s where we’ll find answers.”

Kara nodded in agreement, and with a glance at Ryan and Torik, they set off. The center of the city seemed a logical destination, but little did they know, it also led them directly into the path of Dorian Reeve and his team.

 

As they moved deeper into the city, the oppressive silence weighed heavier. Every shadow seemed to move with them, the eerie quiet unnerving even Torik, the seasoned soldier. He walked slightly ahead of the group, his eyes scanning every building, every corner, his instincts sharp and ready. Ryan, the engineer, was close behind, checking his equipment, his mind always whirring. Zera, ever the archaeologist, was fixated on the alien structures, her eyes wide with fascination. Kara kept to the rear, ever the vigilant leader, her senses alert to any potential threat.

They were nearing an intersection when Torik suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes narrowed, catching the faintest glint of something in the distance. Something metallic. He raised his hand, signaling the others to halt immediately.

Kara tensed, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her blade. “What is it?” she whispered, stepping quietly to his side.

Torik crouched down, bringing his rifle to his shoulder, peering through the scope. He scanned the street ahead, his breath steady and measured. There—just barely visible—a sniper rifle’s barrel protruded from behind a wall, waiting for them to walk right into its line of fire.

“Sniper,” Torik muttered, keeping his voice low. “Corner building, up the road.”

Kara clenched her jaw, her mind racing. “Dorian.”

“It has to be him,” Torik confirmed, his eyes never leaving the scope. “He’s lying in wait. He knew we’d head this way.”

Kara’s eyes narrowed as she considered their options. “He’s trying to draw us into an ambush.”

Ryan shifted nervously. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t exactly charge down that road.”

“No,” Kara said, her voice calm but deadly serious. “But we don’t have to.”

 

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