Gregory and Bryce stumbled through the darkened forest, both physically and emotionally drained from the night's events. After about an hour of aimless wandering, they came upon the crumbling remains of what appeared to be an ancient stone structure.

The shuttle touched down on the outskirts of what should have been Outpost Zeta. As the team disembarked, they were met with an eerie silence. The military base, which should have been a hive of activity, stood as a hollow shell of its former self.

Gregory's heart pounded in his chest as he tore through the forest, branches whipping at his face and arms. The sound of heavy footsteps behind him spurred him on, even as his lungs burned for air.

Consciousness returned to Marcus slowly, like wading through a thick fog. He blinked, his vision gradually coming into focus. Above him, a familiar face swam into view – Rylee, her brow furrowed with concern.

Bryce moved quickly through the brush, heading directly west, and he set a pace fast enough that Gregory was struggling to catch up. He was panting from the exertion and wanted to ask for a break to catch his breath.

The world exploded into a cacophony of light and sound as Marcus and the team plunged into the swirling vortex. He felt as if he were being torn apart and reassembled, his very essence scattered across time and space.

As soon as they saw the smoke, Gregory felt the prince tense up next to him. Bryce was on edge, clearly affected, though his face was calm and devoid of all emotions. They stopped walking and stood in a clearing, watching the smoke filter into the clouds.

As they made their way through the frozen outpost, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The motionless figures around them seemed to stare with unseeing eyes, their faces caught in expressions of surprise, fear, or determination. "Do you think they can see us?"

“We need to keep moving,” Bryce said.