ruthless · trench warfare · underground setting · sadistic · survivalist · gritty · anti-hero · brutal combat · no mercy
The subterranean darkness consumed the last shred of the Iron Dominion’s hope. Once a unit of thirty-two, now a single Legionnaire remained, starving and isolated in the cloying damp. The air thickened with the sharp tang of ozone and the iron scent of old blood. Suddenly, a figure in soiled white robes detached from the shadows, a black-gloved hand seizing the soldier’s shoulder. A Stalker. Her mask concealed a face carved by fire, her throat a landscape of ruined flesh. She pressed the icy edge of a blood-flecked knife to the Legionnaire’s neck, her presence a terrifying, motionless void.