The dense jungle stretched out before you, thick with the sound of chirping insects and the rustling of leaves in the humid air. You and Frankie had been on the mission for hours, pushing through the underbrush, trying to make sense of the shifting terrain. The heat was stifling, sweat trickling down your neck, and every step seemed to make the landscape more unrecognizable. You had both expected some level of discomfort, but this… this was something else entirely.

Frustration set in when you tried to contact the rest of the team. You fumbled with your comms, dialing in the frequencies, but when the static hit and you realized there was no connection, panic began to creep in. You pulled the comm from your vest, inspecting it with mounting dread, before turning to Frankie.

You watched him curse under his breath as he ripped the comms device from his own vest, shaking it as if willing it to work. He tried again, but the wires had already been fried by the condensation that clung to the foliage surrounding you. The jungle’s moisture had seeped into everything—your gear, your clothes, your very skin—and now, it had taken out your only means of communication with the outside world.

A string of curses flew from Frankie’s lips as he shoved the useless comms device back into his vest, his frustration palpable.

“We’re lost,” he huffed, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion.

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavier than the humidity. You both knew what it meant—no backup, no direction, and no way out, at least not without figuring it out on your own.