July 30, 2025 · Night-Wing VTOL En Route / Eastern Ridge, Swiss Alps · 01:47 Local
The Night-Wing cut through the black Swiss sky like a blade, engines muted to a whisper by Trinity's stealth protocols. Snow-capped peaks glowed faintly under starlight below, the air thin and freezing. Inside the dimly lit cabin, seven operators sat in perfect silence — strapped into crash seats, the only sound the faint click of weapons being checked one final time.
Chris sat at the front, gloved hands resting on his rifle, the faded BSAA patch catching the red emergency lighting for a moment before the cabin went dark again. He glanced once at the man opposite him and gave a single nod.
Alen — Ghost — sat motionless. Mask fully down, black respirator sealed, only the cold blue glow of his eyes visible above it. The Winter Soldier loadout complete and still, the titanium arm resting on the TTI Pit Viper at his thigh. He looked like death in tactical gear and every member of the squad felt it.
Trinity's calm voice filled every earpiece. ≪ Insertion window in sixty seconds. Cloud cover optimal. Parachute drop point locked. Micro-drone swarm deploying on my mark. ≫
Alen's voice came through comms, low and clinical. "Ghost goes first. Blue laser means clear. Red laser means hold. No noise. No lights. We are shadows."
Chris answered for the team. "Copy. Wolf Pack, stay tight behind Ghost. Let's make it clean."
The rear ramp hissed open. Freezing alpine wind screamed in. One by one they unstrapped and moved to the edge.
Alen stepped out first.
He fell into the night like he belonged there. No hesitation. No sound. The black chute deployed silently above him, guiding him toward the eastern ridge two thousand feet below. The squad followed in sequence — Chris last, watching every silhouette against the stars.
They landed in deep powder snow without a single crunch that carried. Alen was already up, mask flickering faint blue for half a second as he phased forward twenty meters to scout the tree line. The squad caught up in a low crouch, rifles raised.
Ancient pine and rock. Snow muffling every footstep. Trinity painting faint green overlays on their HUDs — thermal ghosts of distant patrols.
Alen raised a fist. The team froze.
Two Farfarello — invisible Hunter variants — patrolled the ridge path ahead, visible only as faint heat distortions on thermal. Alen moved like liquid shadow. He phased through a snowdrift, appeared behind the first one, pressed the TTI Pit Viper to the back of its skull, and fired once.
Voidstrike round. The creature dropped without a sound, body dissolving into a melted puddle of slime and bone.
The second Farfarello spun. Alen was already gone — phased ten meters sideways. He marked it red on the team HUD. John dropped it with one silent shot from his elevated position. The body hit the snow and dissolved.
"Clean," Chris breathed. "Move."
They advanced down the ridge. The mansion loomed ahead — dark, gothic, windows black. Alen reached the outer wall first, placed a gloved hand against the stone, and phased straight through into the guard room on the other side. Two seconds later the blue laser flashed once.
Clear.
The squad slipped through the side door Alen had unlocked from inside and moved like one organism through marble halls lined with antique paintings and crystal chandeliers. No alarms. No lights.
In the grand foyer — three Ooze. Standard human victims, bloated white bodies glistening, one carrying a mutated scythe arm. Alen marked them blue. Rolando and Dion opened fire in perfect sync. Voidstrike rounds punched through skulls and cores. The creatures collapsed instantly, bodies liquefying into harmless puddles before they could scream.
Emily's voice was tight. "More signatures below. Sewer access is fifty meters ahead."
They reached the service stairwell leading to the underground outflow tunnel. Alen took point again, descending into darkness. The air grew damp and cold, brine and rot rising from below.
The sewer tunnel stretched ahead — narrow, wet concrete, knee-deep black water. Trinity painted faint red warnings on the HUD.
Ghiozzo.
A school of infected fish-beasts surged through the water, razor teeth flashing. Alen dropped to one knee, switched to the Nine-Oh-Nine, and fired controlled bursts. Voidstrike turned the water to foam as the creatures thrashed and dissolved. Dion tossed a shaped charge into the deeper pool. Muffled explosion. More Ghiozzo surfaced dead.
They pressed on.
Halfway down the tunnel Alen froze mid-step. Fist raised. The squad dropped.
Farfarello on the ceiling. Two of them, cloaked perfectly — visible only as faint ripples in the cold air.
Alen phased upward in a burst of blue-tinted shadow, appearing directly between them. He fired the TTI Pit Viper point-blank into the first one's core. The second lunged. He phased sideways, reappeared behind it, and drove his titanium left arm through its back. The creature convulsed once and melted.
Chris signalled. The team moved past the dissolving remains without a word.
At the end of the tunnel — the underground train elevator. Rusted, functional, exact architecture of the ruined NEST systems from Raccoon City. Alen hacked the panel in four seconds. The massive doors groaned open.
They stepped inside. The elevator began its long descent.
≪ Descending to B1 Security Level. Thermal spikes increasing. Multiple Ooze signatures detected. Recommend extreme caution. ≫
Chris checked his rifle. "Ghost, you take point when these doors open. We clear B1 room by room."
Alen stood at the front of the elevator, mask glowing faintly blue, titanium fingers resting on the trigger of the Nine-Oh-Nine. The squad formed a tight wedge behind him.
The elevator slowed. The doors began to slide open with a metallic screech.
Beyond them — B1. A vast security level, half-flooded with dark T-Abyss water. Pipes dripping. Emergency red lights flickering. Bloated white shapes shifting in the shadows. Ooze. Shooter variants. Scythe variants. A Chunk variant rolling slowly forward.
Alen's voice came through comms — ice cold, clinical, final.
"Contact."
He stepped out into the dark.
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