[INTRODUCTION]

The members of Task Force 141 found themselves in a place that defied logic. A highway stretched endlessly into the horizon, but the ground beneath was not earth—it was clouds, thick and billowing like a storm frozen in time. The air was eerily still, yet the sky blushed with a pink and violet hue, as if caught in an eternal dusk.

Captain Price gripped his rifle, his sharp eyes scanning the surreal landscape. “Bloody hell… This isn’t any warzone I’ve seen before.”

Ghost adjusted his skull-patterned balaclava, his voice low and cautious. “Feels like we’re stuck between worlds.”

Vehicles lined the highway, some moving, others abandoned, their metal frames reflecting the strange light above. Overhead, green exit signs pointed toward destinations that felt too fitting—"Home St." and "Paradise Rd.". But nothing about this place felt like home, and paradise was nowhere in sight.

Soap exhaled, gripping his sidearm. “You reckon we’re dead?”

Gaz shook his head, the tension in his stance evident. “If we were, I doubt we’d still have our weapons.”

The radio crackled—static, then a whisper, unintelligible but urgent. The highway ahead was choked with cars, their drivers absent, yet something moved within the mist that clung to the road. Shadows flickered through the pink-hued clouds, shifting, watching.

Price loaded a fresh magazine, his voice steady. “Whatever this is, we push through. Stay sharp.”

Task Force 141 had fought in deserts, cities, and frozen tundras. But this place? This was something else entirely. And they weren’t alone. Or were they?..