Dreary wide hallways seemed to be a staple amongst the baddies. The underground bunker was certainly not in need of more of them. Little droplets of water splashed on the floor from the stalagmites, and the stale scent of metal and gasoline lingered in the air.

Ben’s group went ahead. He’d split his group of twenty into two to cover more ground. They’d been given walkie-talkies and enough explosive charges to bust through doors quickly. Lisa’s group trailed behind, and Jones led the charge.

Ahead was the first intersection. It had been agreed upon that Jones and Watson would lead their groups to the left while Lisa led hers to the right. They signalled each other goodbye and jogged down the hallway. Time was of the essence, but they had to be cautious.

Ben’s scouting party didn’t bother with inspecting the rooms. They just kicked the door in to check for enemies and promptly left. Jones and Watson, on the other hand, had taken a small look into the various nooks and crannies, finding crates upon crates of high-tech metallic junk.

It wasn’t until they’d reached their third hallway when issues arose.

Jones had peeked a corner. There was no sign of the scouting party. Instead, four Lizardmen were slowly approaching him, their guns raised. He’d barely pulled his face back before bullets greeted the now pimply corner.

“Shit!” Jones said, gasping for air. “What in the fuck? The scouts aren’t there.”

“I think we noticed.” Watson gulped. ”Did you see any bodies?”

“No.” Jones shook his head.

The insurgents became visibly more tense. Quickly, they shuffled into a formation for engagement.

“We don’t have time for this.” Jones grunted. ”We need to face them head-on.”

Watson scanned the area. “But we can’t just… Bust out, Jones.” He said.

“Well, watch me.” Jones said. He reached for his belt, where a trusty flashbang lie. “You two.” He pointed at a pair of determined young’uns amongst the crowd. “You boys handy with your guns?” He received a duet of nods. “You’ll follow up. The rest of you, back us up if we need to.”

The flashbang was thrown. Timed perfectly, Jones poked his head out, the two others dashing ahead with their guns raised. Jones was very happy with his choice of weapon- a xenotech antimatter rifle. Not anti-material, antimatter. A well-placed crotchshot blasted a Lizard into pieces.

The young’uns weren’t as successful. They weren’t well coordinated. They both marked a single target, leaving the other alone to do as it pleased. By the time Jones could cycle his bolt, and the boys realized their mistake, one had taken a bullet to the stomach.

Confirming their targets were dead, the insurgents crowded over the boy. Thanks to kevlar, he wasn’t too badly wounded. But he certainly wouldn’t be able to battle.

They had no choice. Minutes later, they stuffed the boy into the widest locker they could find, leaving him there for retrieval when the mission was over.

“Where the hell do you suppose the scouts are?” Jones asked. He was fuming. “They haven’t said a squeak since the split.”

“Why don’t you try contacting them?” Watson pulled out the walkie-talkie. “Here. Press this button.”

Jones clenched the black metal box. “Hey, assholes! Fucking warn us next time properly. We ran into a group of guards and one of our guys got shot.”

Watson hastily snatched it away. “Um, he means we’d really like some more warning.”

There was no reply. The two stared at the device, expecting it to do… Something.

Finally, Jones took the machine back. “...You guys there?” He said with a hint of worry.

“Um, yes. We’re here.” A voice responded. Jones didn’t recognize it, but it sounded human.

“Where were you guys?” Jones sighed. “I thought you assholes were dead.”

“We’re- uh, I mean, I am alive.” The talkie buzzed. “We were- ambushed by the… Enemy. I’m the only one alive. Requesting backup.”

Ahead, the survivor stood. He looked… Very clean. Surrounding him was a bloodbath. Both enemy and human corpses were scattered about, dozens of empty brass casings rolling around.

Watson turned away and gagged. Even Jones turned his nose up. He’d seen this so many times on Liveleak, but seeing it for real was a different beast alltogether. The survivor seemed unfazed. Almost… Serene. Jones and his party stopped in their tracks.

“What in the hell happened here?” Jones yelled. They were a good fifteen meters away from the survivor.

“We had a battle.” The survivor said. He was very calm; almost suspicious so. “I was the only one who survived.”

The crowd behind Jones and Watson murmured. “Mitch?” A voice called. An older man from the party seemed to recognize him. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” Mitch said. “Can you help me?”

The old man moved towards the front of the crowd. Before he could go, Jones stopped him. “Stop. There’s something fishy about this.”

The older man brushed his arm away. “The hell’s wrong with you, man?” He scowled. ”It’s Mitch. He’s clearly in shock.” He jogged towards Mitch.

“I’m telling you-” Jones stretched his hand, but it didn’t reach.

The old man walked up to Mitch, hugging him. “Man, you okay?” He asked. “What in the world happened to you?”

Jones eyed the two with curiosity.

“Um, what’s wrong, Jones?” Watson whispered.

“Back me up, Watson.” Jones murmured. He suddenly raised his voice, and pointed at one of the corpses. “Hey, Watson, that’s Ben, right?” It caused unrest amongst the group.

“What do you-” Jones smacked Watson’s back. “Yes, uh... That’s Ben alright.”

“Hey, Mitch,” Jones said, meeting Mitch’s dead eyes, “pass me Ben’s walkie, will ya? I think it was in the right pocket, right?”

“Yes, it was.” Mitch confirmed, and reached for the Jacket.

As he bent over, Jones pulled out his trusty Deagle. With hesitation, he cycled the firearm twice.

Horror rose amongst the party at the realization of what had happened. Everyone seemed just about ready to lynch Jones, the old man already having his rifle raised.

But suddenly, Mitch’s body let out an ear-piercing howl. It wiggled in ways a human body couldn’t endure. The limbs malformed and contorted, and his skin changed color. Everyone let Jones go. For safety’s sake, Jones blasted a couple more shots into the thing. Watson, and many others, took this time to vomit their guts out.

Dead on the ground was the most colorful Lizard they’d encountered yet. A Chameleon.

“...How did you know?” A streak of blood was smeared on the old man’s face.

Jones spat on the ground. “It didn’t make sense.” He said. “Why would three guards just overlook this one guy? His clothes and shit looked too clean. You see the bloodbath down here?”

“But… but…” The old man mumbled.

“Besides, Ben isn’t even in this group.” Jones said. “He’s ahead of Lisa now. I also know for a fact that dumbass keeps his walkie clipped on his belt.”

Watson recovered slowly, straightening his posture once more. “That was…” he choked, “the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.” His face was pale.

“Yeah.” Jones said. “Me, too, honestly.” He reached for a secret pocket, pulling out a metal flask.

“...What do we do now?” Watson asked. “This… We don’t have a scouting party anymore.”

“We have to keep going, obviously.” Jones took a swig. “But now, we need to be extra careful. You’ve just seen what those fuckers can do, right?”

“I don’t think I could ever forget.” Watson nodded furiously.

Jones turned to his comrades. “You fuckers saw that too, right?” He said. The crowd murmured a reluctant yes. ”Good. From now on, keep an eye amongst yourselves. Anything’s off? Say it.”

Firefights with the Lizardmen were becoming more and more difficult. A lack of cover and quickly diminishing supplies meant that each successive encounter carried more and more risk. They’d already lost ten soldiers- four from Watson’s crew, and six from Jones’s. But they kept pushing on.

What was really dangerous were the Chameleons. The problem was that there was a decent amount of actually human staff. Amongst them were a couple Chameleon, blending in with the group until they were ready to backstab. Nobody could tell the real from the fakes apart, especially as they did not know anyone personally.

Their exploration slowed considerably. What didn’t help was when news arrived that the barricade was being overwhelmed.

But they persisted. Keep on keeping on was the slogan, and they held to that. All the members were as determined as it got, not losing heart as the difficult situations they faced.

Soon, they reached a wide, open space. This was a central hub of sorts. The space was shaped like a dome, nearly two hundred meters in diameter. Three tunnels connected to this node, one from the left, and another to their opposite. Hundreds of crates and containers were scattered in the room, and all sorts of machinery blinked passively.

In the middle was a large structure. It was a round, plate-like thing, built from bottom to top from sheet metal. Jones smiled as he recognized the shape. A UFO.

The UFO was humongous. Above it, at the top of the dome, was a spiral formation, most likely a hatch of some sorts. The UFO itself wasn’t too distinct- just a simple metallic saucer shape with a round globe attached to the bottom. Jones marvelled at that globe- for attached to it was a sentry gun. The globe was see-through, and one could make out a joystick and controls inside.

Something else caught their attention, however.

There was a large-scale firefight. Bullets zoomed by at impressive speeds. Empty gas grenades littered the ground, and dead bodies were heaped around the edges. Watson could make out a wounded Ben and Lisa desperately fighting against a large group of Lizardmen, who had fortified the entrance opposite to them.

Quickly, the two groups rushed in. Watson joined Ben and Lisa, bringing his group over for support. Jones dashed towards nearby cover, taking a completely different route.

It was not a good situation. They’d spent most of their explosives blasting through gates and blockades, and there weren’t many more tools to spare. Who would know what lay past that barricade, anyways? How much more explosives would they need to save?

Watson focused on providing cover fire for Lisa and Ben’s group to attempt an advance. They had been doing at it for a while, it seemed. But for each Lizardmen that fell in battle, another replaced it. As losses mounted on the insurgent’s side, they were being pushed back. Watson prayed, and kept providing cover.

Jones, on the other hand, realized the situation was dire. He knew something had to be done, or the others would be done for. He saw a ventilation duct nearby- if he could sneak in there, could he perhaps reach the matriarch?

But eyeing his comrades in battle, he sighed, and turned to his troops.

“We have to do something.” He said, his eyes solute. He pointed his finger at the saucer. “I have an idea, but I need all of you to cover for me, alright?”

Countless nods responded. Jones grinned, and raised his fist. ”Alright. You boys deal with the Lizards. Distract them for me, will ya?”

Before anyone could ask what his idea was, Jones dashed forwards. He was only about a seventy five meters away from the UFO. The problem was that most of it was open space. He saw a hatch located on the side of the saucer, luckily faced away from the Lizardmen. A ladder hung from that hatch.

He closed his eyes and focused. Drawing a deep breath, he clenched a grenade.

He threw the grenade at the Lizardmen, hoping for a momentary distraction. Then, as if possessed, he shot forward, dashing madly at the saucer.

Jones nearly arrived when a bullet pierced his achilles heel. The pain coursed through his body, threatening to throw him off balance. But he didn’t stop. With his unhurt foot, he lunged forwards, throwing himself towards the ladder.

By the margin of a finger, he grabbed the bottom peg of the ladder. He hurled himself onto the saucer, climbing desperately into the hatch.

Watson was becoming more and more terrified. This wasn’t a fight they could win. He’d been in this situation so many times before, but this time, the fear was primal. They couldn’t lose here.

But suddenly, he saw the saucer jolt from its rightful place. Suddenly, the saucer beeped and blinked, causing no little amount of confusion amongst the onlookers. It was almost as if the battle paused only to see what would happen.

Watson saw Jones slump into the globe attached to the bottom, and smiled.

The globe turned towards the barricade. The defenders seemed to know what horrors awaited them. Quickly, they tried to aim their heaviest weapons against the thing, turning their attention away from the foot soldiers. But it was too late. A sudden whirr filled the room, and a set of blinding red lights flashed from globe to barricade.

Screams of agony filled the room. The barricade was completely annihilated from the blast of the laser cannon. The reinforcements were just as easily wiped out.

“Why do you always cut it so close?” Ben asked, grumbling as his wounds were hastily patched.

“The hero’s always late.” Jones laughed. “Well, it ain’t intentional. Ow, ow, ow.” His face twisted in pain as Watson pulled the bullet from his foot.

“Well done, Jones.” Lisa said. She looked tired. It seemed Jones and Watson weren’t the only ones faced with trouble.

Watson finished patching Jones up. “You going to be fine, Jones?” Watson asked with worry. “I don’t think you can walk normally after that.”

“I’ll be fine, fine.” Jones said. “It’s just a tiny lil’ bullet to the foot. What little bitch would complain about a scratch like that?” He glanced towards Ben, who was getting treated for a hipshot.

“So the off button’s not there.” Ben sighed. “I think I’ll be fine too.”

“Good.” Lisa said. ”We need to keep going.”

Watson helped Jones up. The other two had already started walking by the time Watson gave Jones a makeshift crutch. Most of the insurgents had restored the barricare they’d just destroyed, keeping a watch on their backs while they headed down the hallway.

It was a group of twenty that headed down this final hallway. This one was especially ominous, perhaps because of its incredibly size. The ceiling here was about ten meters high, and they could see a large structure ahead.

What greeted them was a set of steel doors. The frame was large, shaped like the gaping maw of a giant lizard. The air tensed around them as a thermite charge was placed on the hinges. Anticipation grew when the sparks flew from the extreme temperatures.

Soon, the doors fell from their hinge, revealing a large room.

Every single sci-fi cliche was fulfilled in some or the other. Oversized monitors, 3-d projections, incubator pods filled with dubious liquids. Somehow, Jones felt that anything less would’ve been a disappointment.

In the back of the room, displayed behind a layer of reinforced plexiglass was a swivel chair. Aside from that, a set of elite guards, numbering six. The chair turned, revealing the largest, most colorful Lizard they’d ever encountered.

“Drazil Clinton-Bush.” Lisa whispered. “The Matriarch.”