Inwater dripped from Zayn’s soaked clothes as he stepped into the closed building. The air inside was thick with dust. The dim corridor stretched ahead, flickering lights casting eerie shadows on the cracked walls. His heartbeat quickened.


    Another gunshot fired from above.


    Zayn’s instincts screamed at him to leave, but he rush to it. He found a rusted staircase at the end of the hallway and took it two steps at a time. Each creak beneath his weight felt deafening in the silence.


    As he reached the upper floor, an explosion erupted just a few meters ahead. The force sent him flying backward, his body crashing against the wall before he slumped to the ground. His vision blurred. A sharp ringing filled his ears. His limbs felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish.


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    Through the haze, he barely registered a figure approaching. A girl skidded to a stop in front of him, her voice urgent.


    “Wait! This is a normal human!”


    Zayn tried to focus. More figures emerged from the shadows—three people, all clad in tactical gear, their weapons lowered as they cautiously stepped closer.


    The girl crouched beside him. “Are you okay?”


    Zayn opened his mouth, but his mind was still spinning from the blast. His vision swam, and the words came out distorted, his hearing muffled by the lingering shock.


    Then, another voice cut through the haze. Urgent. Sharp.


    “Predator! At three o’clock!”


    The team instantly snapped to attention, raising their weapons. Zayn, still struggling to process what was happening, could barely turn his head before a low, inhuman growl rumbled from the shadows.


    Something was coming.