The sun was a merciless, bleached disc in the vast, pale sky, beating down on the unforgiving landscape. Scrub-covered hills, the color of old dust, sloped gently toward a remote settlement. The low-lying buildings —painted in faded yellows and blues—looked like sun-scorched ruins clinging to a dying world. The only movement was the whispering of sparse, dry grasses, a sound swallowed by the profound silence of the desert.
The scene shifted to the compound's inner quad. High stucco walls, bleached white by years of solar abuse, surrounded a dusty courtyard. The architectural style —simple, flat-roofed, with deep-set windows —was stark and functional. Sharp, angular shadows sliced across the ground, the only break in the oppressive light. A few hardy, leafy vines clung stubbornly to the walls, offering meager patches of dark green against the relentless stone.
Inside one of the buildings, the air was suddenly thick, heavy, and cold—a jarring contrast to the heat outside. The interior was plunged into absolute darkness, illuminated only by a blinding, clinical beam of turquoise light that cut through the gloom like a surgical laser.
In the brilliant glare, a figure —clearly distressed and bearing the fresh marks of battle —was slumped on the floor. His combat gear was tattered, clinging to a heavily muscled frame. Standing over him, the light creating a harsh silhouette, was an older man.
The younger man spoke first, voice ragged with exhaustion and profound regret.
"I'm sorry that things have turned out this way, Professor."
The Professor looked down at him, his face etched with sorrow and weariness."Don't say that, Major Kangs." He paused, remorse heavy in his voice. "I'm the one who's sorry for putting you and your men in this situation."
Major Kangs slowly pushed himself up, pain threading through every movement, anger burning hotter than any wound. His expression twisted, frustration and fury mixing into something sharp and bitter.
"This rescue mission would've succeeded if only that goddamn informant hadn't turned on us." His jaw clenched as he spoke, the betrayal still fresh, acidic on his tongue. He gestured sharply toward the forms of fallen comrades nearby. "These men were highly trained soldiers, not just common militia…"
He trailed off, the weight of their loss dragging his voice down. The silence between them was heavy, suffocating.
He looked back at the Professor, voice hardening with cold, brutal truth.
"Not to mention triple the manpower of what our intel projected."
The turquoise light flickered faintly, illuminating the grim tableau around them. The stark glow only emphasized the desperate reality of their situation: betrayed, outnumbered, and trapped in a silent, sun-baked tomb with little hope left.
Just then, a sickening, dull sound cut through the tense exchange. "THUD."
Major Kangs' head snapped up. A man—one of his own, a soldier—had been thrown violently into the room, collapsing in a heap near their feet. The man managed a single, choked gasp: "UGH…"
"SERGEANT KIM!" Kangs roared, recognizing the face even through the dust and blood.
The Sergeant, his face contorted in a grimace of pain and fear, was barely conscious.
A heavy, sickening CLANG then echoed through the room. The sound was sharp and metallic —the noise of a discarded piece of gear, perhaps a weapon or helmet, hitting the hard floor near the entryway. The light, momentarily obscuring the source, revealed only a pair of heavy, dark boots moving deliberately away from the room, leaving Major Kangs and the Professor alone with the injured Sergeant Kim and the crushing reality of their defeat.
The ambush was over, but the fallout —the physical pain, the loss of life, the devastating betrayal—was only just beginning. They were abandoned, their mission a catastrophic failure, left to face whatever fate the enemy had planned for their isolated, sun-baked location.