Lacey was worried about her current situation. She had gotten separated from her comrades after nearly avoiding getting crushed from a collapsing section of the enemy bunker network that they were investigating. Raising her rifle with trembling paws, the Lethian canid cautiously moved through the increasingly dimly lit tunnels, unsure of where it would lead her to. She still remembered the brutal close quarters combat that occurred in the last bunker network they invaded. Behind every corner and doorway could greet her with the hot barrel of a gun or the cold steel of a bayonet. As she continued her exploration of the tunnel system she began to feel a sense of great unease and even fear to settle within her. Something was wrong…

Failing lights, blood stains, discarded weapons and gear, and bits of gore and bones lying about yet the bodies were absent. Lacey’s guts told her to run, to get out of her as fast as possible but she pressed onwards. The only Swechian troops she encountered thus far were near the entrance who were hysterical and distressed, begging for their enemies to not venture into the bunker. Upon reaching what appeared to be a small mess hall dimly lit by an emergency strobe light, Lacey halted suddenly in her tracks. Standing before her was a Swechian fusilier with his back turned towards her. Before she could try to communicate with him, her ears picked up a growling and groaning sound emitting from the mess hall. Multiple in fact. The Swechian fusilier slowly turned to face her as did multiple figures that resembled Equidiues rising from their slumber.

And that’s when Lacey knew to run as fast as her legs could carry her.

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