Under the commander's sharp order, the third squad retreated in a hurry, boots pounding the asphalt as if distance alone could shield them from the unease creeping up their spines.

One of the armored vehicles rumbled forward, gears grinding, its massive weight making the ground tremble. The steel turret on its roof shifted, angling forward. Inside the barrel gleamed Hammer Industries' latest pride: an armor-piercing shell, slim as a man's arm, carrying the promise of destruction.

Even tanks had crumpled before it.

The soldiers nearby inhaled in unison, holding their breath. The commander's complexion looked ashen beneath the glow of the vehicle's lights. His jaw was tight, his eyes cold, but his hand trembled ever so slightly as he gave the signal.

A sharp crack split the night as fire roared from the barrel.

The projectile screamed through the air like a spear of flame, aimed directly at Luke's grocery store shutter.

The commander's heart twisted. If the shell broke through, it would explode inside. That meant the men of the first two squads, his men, would be torn apart alongside the target. He clenched his teeth, forcing the thought aside. Orders were orders.

Jerry's reaction was different. The moment the turret fired, his body shook like a leaf. His eyes bulged, lips moving soundlessly before finally spilling into trembling whispers: "No… no, no… this won't work… this place can't be broken…"

His terror wasn't about casualties. It was about what would survive.

BOOM!

The shell struck. A deafening blast and a wave of fire rolled over the street. Dust surged, and for a heartbeat, no one dared to breathe.

The commander leaned forward, waiting to hear the explosion's echo from inside. But… the sound was wrong. The boom hadn't echoed past the shutter. It had detonated on the surface.

As the smoke cleared, the truth revealed itself. The rolling door stood tall and untouched. Not a single scorch mark, not even a dent.

The soldiers froze in disbelief.

"…That's impossible."

Even bombs could fail against reinforced barriers. But this? This was an armor-piercing shell, a weapon meant to chew through tanks.

"Are you telling me…" one soldier muttered, sweat dripping down his neck, "…that we just shot a building door with anti-armor and it didn't do a single thing?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. A few soldiers let out uneasy chuckles, the kind that came not from humor but raw fear.

The commander's face twisted into something ugly. His options dwindled, his confidence fractured. Nuclear weapons? Impossible here, in the middle of Manhattan. Even General Mike couldn't authorize it, let alone him.

What could pierce a grocery store that shrugged off tank-busters?

But he didn't have time to think of an answer.

Clang.

The door, the same one that had defied fire and steel, began to creak open, slow and smoothly.

And from inside came only silence. No boots pounding, no shouts, no survivors rushing back to safety.

Two full squads, gone. Not a whisper left on comms. A chill settled over the soldiers outside, spreading down spines like ice water.

"What… happened in there?" one whispered, but no one had an answer.

Then came movement. A heavy, deliberate thud of something massive dragging itself toward the threshold.

The soldiers raised weapons, their hearts hammering against their ribs.

A towering shape emerged, silver-gray, muscles swelling under alien skin. Two big white eyes glared, unblinking. A maw stretched unnaturally wide, brimming with teeth sharp as knives, drool hanging in strands. Its tongue slithered free, dripping saliva onto the pavement with wet splats.

The air reeked of copper and rot.

"…My god."

"What the hell is that thing?"

"It ate them. It ate all of them…"

The fear came in a wave, but the commander clung to his training. His gut churned, but he forced his voice hard through the comms: "Target is hostile! ALL UNITS, FIRE! Turn it into a sieve!"

The soldiers reacted like clockwork, instincts honed through endless drills. Guns barked, rifles roared, the night lit with muzzle flashes. The storm of bullets converged on the creature.

But the target was gone.

Gasps broke out. Confusion spread. Then, Schlick.

Riot materialized behind a soldier. His jaw unhinged, fangs closing with wet finality around the man's head. A sickening crunch echoed as bone shattered.

Screams erupted around.

Blood sprayed. The soldier's body crumpled to the asphalt, twitching once before going still.

Terror surged through the ranks.

It wasn't the massacre of the first two squads that broke them, it was this. The immediacy. The sight of a comrade's head crushed like fruit. The visceral sound of chewing, of cracking bone and tearing flesh, burned itself into their ears.

The illusion of order collapsed immediately and the battlefield dissolved into chaos.

Men who once drilled for discipline dropped their weapons and bolted. Boots pounded the ground as they fled into alleys, into the dark, anywhere away from the nightmare.

"Hold formation!" the commander screamed from inside his vehicle. "STOP! ATTACK, DAMN YOU, ATTACK TOGETHER!"

But no one listened anymore.

Even the armored vehicles faltered. One engine revved, gears screeched, and an entire transport broke from formation, roaring down the street in retreat.

Inside that vehicle was Jerry.

Unlike the others, Jerry was calm, or at least calmer than he should have been. His panic had burned itself out long ago, replaced by grim inevitability.

When Riot stepped into the light, Jerry hadn't fainted or screamed. He had simply known. This was how it ended.

Shoving aside the driver, who sat paralyzed with horror, Jerry seized the wheel. The engine roared to life, and he spun the vehicle hard. Rubber burned, and the armored car lurched forward.

He didn't care about orders. He didn't care about the consequences anymore. If deserters were punished, let them punish all of them, because tonight, survival mattered more than honor.

His lips even curled in the faintest grin.

Compared to the men running on foot, he was safer inside metal walls. Safer behind the hum of armor plating. He had no intention of ever returning to this cursed street again.

But just as the vehicle surged past two hundred meters…

WHAM!

Something massive crashed down from the sky, cratering the roof in an instant. Steel screeched as the armored plating buckled like paper.

The soldiers inside screamed. Jerry's eyes shot wide, his hands frozen on the wheel.

Seeing the excitement in Doggo's eyes, as well as the drool that was dropping into the passenger seat, Luke had directly opened the door and kicked him off Bumblebee.

…