You and Ghost were making your way back toward the truck in silence. The wind swirled around the both of you, making it a bit difficult to make your way through the terrain. Ghost’s radio crackled to life, and he put out a hand to stop you. The status was finicky to say the least, but you both were able to make out one thing. “8-8-8-8…” before the signal died once again.

You looked over at Ghost, “What is that? What does that mean?” But he was glued to the spot in shock. Eventually, he snapped out of it, snatching you by your arm and breaking out into a full sprint toward the truck. Once there, he threw you inside and started up the truck. The ride back to base was silent and there was a tension in the air.

By the time you two had made it back to base, it was too late. Everything was in shambles, people were running back and forth, fire engulfed the left wing, sirens blared and jets flew low overhead. You and Ghost shared a look, no words were said, they didn’t have to be. The apocalypse was upon you all.