The night swallowed them whole.

Fireteam Specter had escaped the high-speed chase, but the city was still hunting them.

Now, they were deep in the underbelly of Velkan's domain—a maze of back alleys, abandoned markets, and forgotten industrial zones. The kind of place where even the rats moved in silence.

But they weren't alone.

The Smiling Demons were here.

Velkan's elite hunters.

No uniforms. No insignias. Just death.

They moved like shadows—silent, efficient, merciless. There were whispers that they weren't just soldiers, but something worse. Something trained beyond the limits of normal men.

And right now, they were closing in.

Kane crouched low behind a rusted dumpster, his breath controlled, his pistol steady.

The alley was dead quiet. Too quiet.

The only sound was the faint drip-drip of water from an overhead pipe. The air stank of oil, decay, and blood.

Doc knelt beside him, rifle raised. His eyes flicked to the rooftops.

"They're here."

Kane knew. He could feel it.

Then, a whisper over comms. Ghost's voice.

"Two hostiles, south alley. No movement, but they're waiting."**

Kane tightened his grip on his pistol. They weren't dealing with standard troops. The Smiling Demons never rushed in. They waited. Watched. Made you second-guess your own shadow.

And then they struck.

A flicker of movement.

Kane didn't hesitate. He spun and fired—a single suppressed shot.

The bullet slammed into a crouched figure, dropping them instantly.

Then the night came alive.

Gunfire erupted from above. Silencers coughed in the darkness.

Kane and Doc hit the ground, rolling for cover as rounds snapped past their heads.

"Contact!" Doc barked.

From the rooftops, black-clad figures leapt down, landing with inhuman grace. No shouts. No wasted movement. Just cold, calculated violence.

One lunged at Kane, a wicked combat knife flashing in the dim light.

Kane caught the blade on his forearm, pain lancing up his skin. He twisted, using the momentum to slam his attacker into the alley wall. The Smiling Demon grunted, but he didn't scream.

They never screamed.

Kane put two rounds in his chest and another in his skull for good measure.

More were coming.

Ghost's voice over comms. "We're boxed in!"

Kane gritted his teeth. They needed an out.

And fast.

Kane gritted his teeth against the pain as blood dripped from the cut on his forearm. The Smiling Demons were pressing in, their movements as precise as a pack of wolves—silent, relentless, and utterly without fear.

The alley was tight, the only way out leading deeper into the city's forgotten underbelly. No clear exits. No easy options.

Kane tapped his comms. "Viper, where the hell is our exfil?"

Static.

Then—a whisper.

"You've got bigger problems. You're not just being tracked—you're being herded."

Kane's stomach tightened.

The Demons weren't here just to kill them.

They were guiding them somewhere.

A trap.

Doc spun, firing a three-round burst. A Smiling Demon lurched back into the shadows, but no scream came. Just the thud of a body hitting the wet pavement.

From above, another figure dropped from the fire escape, a machete flashing in the dim alley light.

Doc barely twisted in time—the blade grazed his vest instead of his throat. He fired point-blank, two to the chest, one to the head.

Ghost's voice crackled through comms. "They're flanking from the east. We need to move—NOW."

Kane turned toward the only open path. A rusted sewer grate.

Not ideal. But better than getting surrounded.

"Go! Now!" Kane barked.

Doc dropped first, landing in the darkness below. Ghost followed, then Kane.

The moment his boots hit the ground, Kane spun and fired upward.

A Smiling Demon had been mid-jump, dropping down after them—until Kane's bullet took him through the skull.

The body hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Kane grabbed the grate and yanked it shut just as gunfire rattled down from above.

They weren't safe.

But at least they weren't dead.

Yet.

The stench of rot and stagnant water filled the air as Kane, Ghost, and Doc landed hard in the underground tunnel. The damp, narrow corridor stretched into the darkness, a labyrinth of rusted pipes and forgotten tunnels beneath the city.

Ghost ripped off her night vision goggles and scanned their surroundings. "We're in the old sewer system. No cameras. No drones."

Kane exhaled. "Good. That buys us time."

Then the metallic clang of boots hit the sewer grate above.

They all went still.

The Smiling Demons were searching for them.

More boots. More movement. No talking. No commands. Just the rhythmic thud of killers tracking their prey.

Doc whispered, "They're not leaving, are they?"

Kane's grip tightened on his pistol. "No. They're waiting."

Ghost's breathing slowed. "Then we keep moving."

They turned and slipped deeper into the tunnels.

The water was ankle-deep, cold as death.

They moved carefully, weapons raised, boots barely making a sound on the slick concrete. The tunnels branched out in all directions, a twisting maze of decay and forgotten ruins.

Doc checked his watch. "Viper, you reading us?"

Static.

Then a faint, distorted voice—not Viper.

A whisper.

"You can't run forever."

Kane froze.

The comms weren't supposed to be compromised. The Smiling Demons didn't just track people—they got inside their heads.

Ghost whispered, "Keep moving."

Kane didn't argue.

They pressed forward, deeper into the tunnels—until they found the first bodies.

Four of them. Rotting. Twisted. Not soldiers. Not civilians. Something else.

Doc knelt beside them, his face tight. "These aren't fresh. Whatever happened to them...it wasn't quick."

Ghost scanned the walls. Symbols were carved into the stone—jagged, erratic.

Kane exhaled.

This wasn't just an escape anymore. Something worse was down here.

Something that even the Smiling Demons feared.

And it was waiting for them.

The air changed.

It wasn't just the damp rot of the sewers anymore. Something else lingered here. A smell that clung to the back of Kane's throat, something metallic and wrong.

Ghost knelt near the bodies, brushing her fingers across the strange carvings in the stone. They weren't random. They had been made with purpose.

"These aren't just markings," she murmured. "They're warnings."

Doc scanned the tunnel ahead, his grip on his rifle tight. "Warnings for what?"

A noise echoed from the darkness.

A faint, wet shuffling—as if something half-crawled, half-dragged itself along the tunnel floor.

Kane motioned for silence.

The Smiling Demons weren't chasing them anymore.

They didn't have to.

Something else was down here.

The radio crackled again.

Not Viper. Not any of their team.

A voice. Faint. Distorted.

"...Why did you come here?"

Kane's stomach twisted.

"Who is this?" he whispered.

No response.

Then—laughter. Low, ragged, not human.

Doc's jaw tightened. "We need to go. Now."

Kane took point, leading them deeper into the tunnels. Anything was better than waiting.

The deeper they went, the worse it got.

The concrete walls became rough stone. The air thickened. The tunnels weren't just sewers anymore.

They had stepped into something older. Something buried beneath the city long before Velkan took power.

They found the next body slumped against the wall.

But this one was fresh.

A Smiling Demon.

His throat had been ripped open. His tactical gear was still intact. His sidearm was still holstered. He hadn't even had time to fight back.

Ghost's breath was steady. "They sent their own men down here."

Doc exhaled sharply. "And they didn't make it back."

Another noise. Closer this time.

Kane's skin prickled. Something was watching them.

He raised a fist, signaling for them to stop.

They weren't alone.

Then the lights flickered.

A deep, slow breath echoed through the tunnel.

Not theirs.

Something was in the dark with them.

And it had just found them.

The lights flickered again.

Then they died completely.

Total darkness.

Kane's heartbeat slammed in his chest, his breath shallow. He had been in dark places before, but this... this was different. This wasn't just the absence of light—it felt like something was swallowing it.

The air thickened, pressing against them like a living thing.

Then, in the blackness—

A scraping sound.

Ghost's voice was a whisper, barely audible through comms. "Switch to NV."

Kane reached for his goggles—but something moved.

Fast.

A blurred shape darted across the tunnel ahead. Not human. Not right.

Doc whispered, "What the hell was that?"

Kane's finger tightened on the trigger. He had no idea.

Then, from behind them—

A wet, rasping breath.

Kane whipped around, rifle raised. The tunnel stretched into darkness, silent. Still. But he knew better.

They were being hunted.

Ghost's voice was sharper now. "We need to move. Now."

No argument.

They moved fast, boots barely splashing in the stagnant water. The tunnel stretched ahead like a black throat, swallowing them whole.

Then—

A scream.

Not human.

It came from the tunnel behind them, high-pitched, distorted, like a radio signal twisting into static.

Then—something crashed through the water. Close.

Kane didn't wait.

"RUN."

The tunnel erupted into chaos.

The thing behind them moved fast—too fast.

Ghost sprinted ahead, her breathing sharp, controlled. Doc was right behind her. Kane brought up the rear, covering their six.

Then he saw it.

For a split second.

A glimpse of something wrong.

Pale, elongated limbs. A mouth that was too wide, stretched into a grin that wasn't human.

A Smiling Demon—but not.

Kane's stomach twisted. The Demons hadn't just died down here.

They had been changed.

Then it lunged.

Kane fired—a three-round burst right into its chest.

The creature jerked, staggered—then kept coming.

Unstoppable. Unnatural.

More movement. More shapes in the darkness.

They weren't alone.

There were more.

Kane cursed.

Doc threw a flashbang behind them. The explosion of light ripped through the tunnel—brief, blinding white.

The creatures screamed, retreating into the shadows.

Ghost spotted a ladder ahead. An old maintenance exit.

"Up! NOW!"

Doc went first, scrambling up the rusted rungs. Ghost followed.

Kane turned for one last look—

The creatures stood just at the edge of the dying light.

Dozens of them.

Still. Watching. Smiling.

Then the lights went out again.

Kane didn't wait. He climbed.

They burst out into the night air, gasping.

A ruined factory. Empty streets. The city still alive above them.

But Kane couldn't shake the feeling that something had followed them up.

Ghost locked eyes with him. She had seen them too.

Doc wiped blood from his forehead. "What the hell were those things?"

No one answered.

Then, the radio crackled.

Viper's voice—clear this time. "Jesus, where the hell were you guys? We've got a new problem."

Kane exhaled sharply. "Bigger than what's under the city?"

A pause.

Then Viper said, "The Dictator just declared martial law. He knows you're alive."

Kane swore. They weren't just being hunted in the shadows anymore.

Now, the whole city was after them.

And the Smiling Demons?

They might not even be the worst thing waiting in the dark.