Leaving Eldoria

The faint hum of engines broke the morning silence as the convoy approached the outskirts of Eldoria. A column of M939 military trucks rumbled down the charred path leading toward the ruined city, their presence heralded by the distinct crunch of gravel beneath heavy tires.

Marcus was the first to spot them, standing at one of the catacomb's main entrances. His keen eyes narrowed as he surveyed the line of trucks slowing to a halt. He pressed his comm unit.

"Commander, the convoy's here," Marcus reported.

"Understood," Vincent's voice came through. "Have the men secure the area. I'll get the survivors ready."

Inside the catacombs, the survivors stirred as news of the convoy spread. There was a palpable mix of relief and apprehension—relief at the promise of safety, and apprehension at the journey ahead.