They were getting close. Soldier could feel it, nervous tension crawling through his entire body. Each step grew heavier as he tried not to think about what lay ahead. Civilian’s back bobbed ahead in a steady pace, clearly unaware of what was waiting for them today.


Then Soldier suddenly stopped. A burst of static crackled in his helmet, followed by a clipped, digitally distorted message:

"Target identified. Subject: Priority. Confirm status. Transmit code 4D-73."


His throat tightened. He took a slow breath and looked at Civilian, who had noticed he’d stopped.


“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the color drain from Soldier’s face.


“We’re taking a short detour,” Soldier muttered, checking the signal.


It wasn’t far.


Finding the source turned out to be easier than expected.


He was sitting on a pile of bricks, glassy-eyed and staring into nothing. He looked like a man who was simply tired, who’d run out of strength. Except for the helmet beside him, identical to Soldier’s, lying cracked on the ground. The deep fracture in its shell made it clear the impact had been brutal.


“This is seriously messed up,” Civilian muttered, unable to hide his unease.


He was right. Throughout all their time wandering the ruins, they hadn’t come across a single body. Anyone who fell in these streets vanished without a trace. Either they disappeared, or something took care of them in ways best left unthought.


But this man was still here, slumped against a wall, almost untouched.


Even stranger, Civilian felt like he knew the man’s face. Or... thought he did. Time had dried it out, left it looking more like a skull stretched with human skin, but something about it felt eerily familiar.


As he stared at that frozen face, he couldn’t shake the feeling… that he was looking at Soldier.


Soldier stepped closer, sighing as his fingers began checking the dead man’s pockets. When he turned back, he saw Civilian shifting uncomfortably nearby.


“What, did you think I was the first expedition they sent?” Soldier said sharply.

“Believe me, I’m just one of many they’ve thrown at this. This guy made it far... just not far enough.”


Then he reached for the dog tag hanging loosely from the dead man’s neck. With one quick tug, he pulled it free. He stared at it for a moment, deep in thought,

then held it out to Civilian.


“If I end up like him, and you’re the one who makes it through... do me a favor and keep this. One day, someone will ask you for it.”


Civilian took the tag and glanced at the etched name and number. It meant nothing to him. But he knew it meant something to someone. He nodded silently and slipped it into his pocket.


Soldier turned away and transmitted the confirmation code from his helmet. He didn’t say anything else.


The body remained where it had fallen. He wasn’t the first. And if something didn’t change soon, he wouldn’t be the last.