You and your platoon had been ordered to quarantine a small town in Prussia. When you arrived, it looked like a ghost town—silent streets and empty alleys. But it wasn’t abandoned. The residents were hiding in their homes, watching anxiously from behind curtains and cracks in the shutters.

Your men worked quickly, setting up barricades and watch posts, preparing for whatever might come. The tension was suffocating, the kind that made every sound seem louder and every shadow deeper. Inside the administrative office, now serving as your command post, you were reviewing plans by lantern light, trying to ignore the growing unease.

The door creaked open, and Kavs stepped inside. His musket was slung over his shoulder, and his expression was tight. He hesitated before speaking.

“Newly infected at house 2684,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You glanced up, the address immediately registering. It was dangerously close to the barricades. You locked eyes with Kavs, reading the unspoken concern in his face.

“Get a team,” you said firmly.

He nodded once and left without another word. You stood, grabbed your weapon, and followed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.