When the sun is out and the day is alive, that’s when the human spirit is at its peak. When the origin’s light is touching the inhabitants that orbit about, that’s when they’re most alive, out and about, interacting within their ecosystem and beyond. When the sky is blue and the crevices of the modern world are lit up, that’s when people feel the most at home, calm and familiar to the place they’ve grown up and lived in since their birth. When the sun is up, the world is warm and forgiving.

But the sun isn’t out, for the soul of the night instead harbors the black, lifeless sky. In the depth of the night, there is silence, an absence of human spirit where it once prospered. Deep within the blackness lacks the familiarity that offers comfort, and thus out in the vast space is not a sound of humanity, not a spoken sound, not a footstep, not a creak. With no gentle touch of light, there is no warmth in the air, but rather it’s chill, sharp, raw. It’s unforgiving.

Below the void resides a desert devoid of presence, an extensive space colorless but for the bland golden of the sand, flat if not for the dunes that make the pits ever deeper. There are no plants, no animals, no water, nothing, nothing but sand for as far as the average naked eye could see, nothing but the vacant crevices of the world absent of life.

Yet the eyes that view the land were optics of no ordinary being, nor were they naked, but rather behind the parallelogram-shaped goggles that exude a cool blue hue. The goggles, pressed on the black carbon fiber-textured mask, stalk the desert beneath the hood, silent, as though there was no life behind it, as though only a mannequin was beneath the mask.

The silent man in the mask stares forth, his arms by his side, covered in the sleeves of his antique leather jacket. He stands still for a few moments, contemplating in the middle of seemingly nowhere, standing at the peak of a dune. His soles sit on the surface of the soft sand, yet unsunk, seemingly weightless like a phantom for they leave no tracks.

Emerging from the state of paralysis, the man raises his right hand slowly, seemingly cautiously, with his fingers loosely held out. As his arm extends farther, his entire hand flashes in an odd variety of blues, cobalt and indigo, before seemingly vanishing, eliminating the sight of human flesh from his arm, leaving behind only the covered sleeve.

Upon full extension of the arm, an odd green glow illuminates where his wrist would’ve been, a flat barrier pulsating in a bubbly effect. The glow is minimal, most intense where his hand would be yet tapering off farther away until vanishing, leaving a small radius of the glow. The vibrations emit a soft hum as though the wall is alive, but at the same time warning the man to refrain from continuing like a boundary attempting to keep him out.

Instead, the man’s entire body flashes in a similar array of blues before vanishing as well, and for a moment, the green wall grows with greater luminescence. However, only moments after the enlargement, the wall vanishes too, shrinking into a spec before it evaporates, leaving behind no trace.

On the other side, a flash of blues emerges seemingly from thin air before the man’s body does as well, walking forth in a calm yet cautious fashion. He then slows down and begins lowering his body, bringing his knee to the ground as his blue eyes stalk the site ahead.

Below the dune where once was no greater presence but more dull dunes rising from the pits, now appears an expansive facility, a rectangular building low to the ground yet covering great space. The surrounding area too is flattened, where there appear to be more constructs, cubical structures lined up like tents. All of the buildings have a golden body, the same shade as the sand, with a lack of texture to blend in.

Leaning forwards, the man in the mask stalks the facility, his view being zoomed in aided by the blue goggles, which supply an artificial luminescence to better let him see in the dark. He observes the space as though standing on the low ground, to which he notices a collection of people, some speaking to one another and others patrolling back and forth.

Upon getting a closer inspection, the people are dressed in a bodysuit seemingly composed of a fiber woven material, their necks and heads covered in a helmet that snuggly fits over their head. While their faces are hidden too, their masks appear to be shaped similarly to that of a human face with sculpted noses, mouths, and eyes, with the eyes illuminated softly with a green light.

On each person, one of their hands seems covered by a long metallic contraption shaped similarly to firearms, their hands covered where the trigger would be, but the bodies exposed, with most pointing towards the ground. There’s a variety of them however, as some are short with their ends being just above the wrist and the barrel being only a few inches beyond where the fist would be, and others are far longer with bodies that are the lengths of their arms, with slender barrels that have ventilation ports along the side. None seem to have scopes however, for the top is flat, as such external peripherals were unnecessary.

All of the people’s bodies and weapons are the same golden shade as the sand, similarly to the facility they inhabit, with most of them looking the same with the exception of varying body types in height and width. Not only were their bodies in the shade of the sand, but upon careful inspection, it seems the suits they wear have a grainy texture with a realistic sense of depth, although in truth it was a flat layer. It’s as though their bodies are genuinely covered in sand, for this camouflage technology utilized is rather intricate. Foremost, they’re all notably dangerous, especially clustered together, albeit casually engaged in conversation without suspicion.

Now having examined the individual design, the man’s vision moves to get a greater view of the front of the facility, documenting a handful of other armed beings standing by the cube structures. He notices an opening along one of them, and from the corner of his eye, he notices there seemingly being a mattress as well as a few bags lazily on the hard metal floor.

Moving his survey up, he stalks the large facility itself, noticing there being several apertures, although standing in front are more armed clusters, with there being minimal view of the interior due to the limitations of the man’s angle. The building also has a metallic body, and upon closer inspection there seems to be visible crevices throughout the exterior, creating distinct composites as though the facility is composed of multiple individual components.

The man’s observation zooms out once again to get a broader view of the facility, analyzing the shape of the building, which is mostly smooth along the exteriors, making it difficult to pinpoint any distinct rooms. Switching lenses, the man’s sight is tainted with a red hue, although all it causes is the entire facility to become covered in an opaque black mold, making it impossible to distinguish features. The lens then switches to a green hue, which returns the external design of the building, but nothing more.

Then a purple hue is added, to which there’s nothing visible at all but total darkness, which is then replaced with a blue hue that then only lets him see the basic outline of the surface and buildings, along with skeletons where the armed beings were standing outside earlier, their bones highlighted with a bright white radiance. The lens reverts to relinquish the hue, maintaining the beneficial luminosity but resorting to a truer form of sight.

Unable to see through the walls of the facility, the man returns his gaze to one of the clusters of armed beings standing out in front of the apertures, stalking them silently. After staring at them for a few moments, the outlines of all of the people in his sight suddenly are highlighted in a green shine, although seeing how none of them noticed, it likely wasn’t a physical effect taking place in their eyes.

Furthermore, the voices of the people become audible, as clear as though the man was standing amongst them, unobstructed from distance with even the breeze silenced.

One of the beings, who has a deep male voice, inquires, “Hey, you got sent to this camp too, huh? I figured I’d see you around too.”

Another being who stands across from the first one nods their head before responding with a gentle female voice, “Oh hey, Reggie, it’s been pretty hectic lately, especially the past couple months. Seems like we can’t really even get sleep, can we?”

The first man hmms before agreeing, “Yeah, especially now that they’re changing our shifts, I heard some people have back-to-back ones too, you can tell from their eyes, I feel even worse knowing they’ll likely get scolded in training.”

Someone enters the peripheral, specifically approaching the two, with a relatively large rifle attached to their hand, the barrel much longer in a shape befitting of a sniper rifle. Upon approaching, the two turn to them before closing their free hand and slamming it on the center of their chest as though it’s some form of salute.

The newcomer speaks, her voice with a noticeable Russian accent as she asks, “Are you two conversing on duty?”

Both of the other two bow whilst exclaiming, “We apologize!”

The newcomer, who appears to hold some level of authority over the other two, acknowledges, “I understand the both of you are tired and would like to go into one of those tents over there, but remember, night duty is the most important. The last thing we want is to get ambushed by an army of devils, especially not this place. You both should have been briefed on the significance of your task, this is our greatest stronghold yet, if we let it fall we’re going to have a far harder time taking our land back from those mutants! Do I make myself clear?”

Both of the other armed guards nod whilst both accepting, “Yes ma’am, we understand!”

The commanding woman hmms before explaining, “Nobody else is having a good time here, but we need to stay attentive. Keep a lookout for any suspicious activity, as long as someone can give an alert we should be able to fortify and drive out any unwanted visitors. I know high command’s sent many of you here as of late, the desert’s not the nicest place, you’re lucky you get the night shift or you’d be burning out all day. But I think you’ll both be pleased to know that the armory transfer to B6 should wrap up by tomorrow noon, so shifts should be normalizing by then.”

The female armed guard lets out a relieved sigh, lowering her head before declaring, “That’s nice, no hard feelings but I’m excited to return back to the forest!”

Reggie however turns to the female before lecturing, “Hey, she didn’t say anything about us being sent back. Besides, have you heard around, there’s a chance they’ll make us stay here even after the move. I heard command’s been on their toes about this stronghold, I mean we’re doing the best with manufacturing and amassing freedom fighters, people are realizing we might be becoming bait for…you know…’him.’”

The commander steps forth and shoves her free hand on the man’s breast before scolding in a harsh tone, “Hey, spreading baseless rumors isn’t helping anyone, I doubt you’ve been personally told this information so I suggest you don’t go around sharing lies. It is true that we haven’t gotten word for redeployment, but the reason hasn’t been disclosed, and mind you this stronghold being its size requires more inhabitants by nature. Focus on our true enemy, the devil Exhumans who’ve terrorized and slaughtered us Pures from their conception, not on some ‘urban legend ghost.’”

Reggie attempts to contend, “But ma’am, you must’ve seen the-!”

“Talking back to a superior, Reggie?” asserts the commander.

“Wait-, no-, I-!” attempts to reason with Reggie, yet he had already spoken.

“100 laps around the premise, go. Every next word is another 10. I’ll be counting,” callously chides the commander.

The female guard staggers, taken aback from the harsh turn of events, and turns to Reggie, who lowers his head with a defeated sigh, knowing an attempt to refute the punishment would only make it worse. He nods his head before turning away and beginning to jog.

As he moves, the rifle attached to his hand suddenly vaporizes into a golden cloud which soon fades, freeing his hands as he begins running around the facility as per his punishment, leaving the two women to watch from their position, neither of their expressions visible behind the lifeless human-shaped mask.

The group is then relinquished of their green highlights, and the view is zoomed out exponentially until reverting to a normal sight given the man’s distance.

The man above then stands up off the ground, watching down over the facility below, the intel he’s gathered now sufficient. He stands in place for a few moments, feeling the wind brush against his body from the side, which picks up grains of sand and carries them past him.

Far down below in the facility grounds, Reggie continues jogging, swinging his arms back and forth as he pants tiredly already, his stamina clearly not as impressive as he claimed. He shakes his head as he continues forward, cursing himself out mentally.

Far behind Reggie, the man above stands at the top of a dune, watching him, somewhat visible from afar, his glaring eyes in a blue blaze. A cold chill touches Reggie’s shoulder as he feels a sudden, unexpected strike of terror, one that brings him to a halt and stand still for a few moments, receiving an overwhelming sense of fear.

He abruptly turns around, raising his head up before freezing once again. While Reggie’s face isn’t visible, there’s a sense of petrification from the green eyes, as he stands still, frozen in place.

Far in the distance from Reggie, he observes the dune and the empty peak, for there is no being present any longer. In fact, the dune is similar to all others, as there’s no anomaly, nothing out of the ordinary, just regular sand, the same sand he’s gotten used to.

Seeing nothing suspicious, Reggie steps backwards for a few moments, wanting to double check, before slowly turning around and continuing his jog, yet with an unsettling feeling weighing his chest. He continues onward with his shameful laps, ultimately suspecting nothing.