The Northrop Grumman MQ-8 Fire Scout hovered silently over the ruined city, its high-resolution cameras scanning every street, every rooftop, every possible location where Eagle—Thomas—could have landed.
Inside the command center, Marcus leaned over the console, his sharp eyes locked onto the live feed displayed on multiple monitors. The drone's thermal imaging painted the streets below in eerie contrast, thousands of undead bodies appearing as cold, lifeless masses as they shuffled relentlessly toward MOA.
"Still nothing?" Marcus muttered, rubbing his temple in frustration.
A systems officer shook his head. "Negative, sir. We've scanned the rooftops, main roads, and collapsed structures, but there are no obvious signs of life."
Marcus exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. He knew Thomas was alive—if he wasn't, the system would have notified them. That meant he was somewhere, possibly injured or trapped, in this godforsaken city.
