Minutes felt like hours.

The battle around Basa Air Base never slowed.

If anything, it became even more violent.

The southern perimeter had completely disappeared beneath smoke, muzzle flashes, and burning wreckage. The earlier neat defensive sectors were gone now. The battlefield had evolved into a chaotic wall of overlapping engagements where infantry, armor, and air support fought almost on top of each other just to stop the infected from breaking through.

Inside the trenches, soldiers no longer counted how many infected they killed.

They only focused on what was directly in front of them.

"LEFT SIDE!"

A wave of infected smashed against the outer barricades again, clawing and climbing over twisted piles of corpses. M240 machine guns immediately opened up, their barrels shaking violently as streams of tracer rounds ripped through the charging bodies.

The infected in front collapsed instantly.

The ones behind climbed over them without hesitation.

One rifleman switched targets rapidly, firing controlled bursts into infected only twenty meters away before his rifle suddenly clicked empty.

"...Fuck!"

He reached for another magazine with shaking hands while nearby soldiers continued firing nonstop over his head.

Then something burst through the smoke.

Fast.

A Hunter.

"CONTACT FRONT!"

The creature sprinted low through the mud before launching itself directly into the trench line. One soldier barely managed to raise his rifle before the Hunter slammed into him hard enough to throw both of them backward into the trench wall.

The screaming started immediately.

"GET IT OFF HIM!"

Shotguns thundered inside the trench while rifle fire exploded at near point-blank range. The confined position lit up with muzzle flashes as the Hunter tore into the pinned soldier beneath it.

Then a flamethrower operator stepped around the corner.

He pulled the trigger.

A stream of burning fuel engulfed the creature instantly.

The Hunter shrieked violently as flames covered its body. It staggered backward through the trench while still on fire before an M240 gunner emptied half a belt directly into its chest.

The creature finally collapsed.

For maybe three seconds, the trench went quiet.

Then more infected slammed into the barricades again.

"Back on the line!" the squad leader shouted.

Further west, one of the M1 Abrams tanks was nearly buried beneath bodies now.

The hull and tracks were coated with blood and shredded flesh from hours of close combat. Infected continuously climbed onto the armor only to be torn apart by coaxial machine gun fire or crushed beneath the tracks as the tank repositioned.

Inside the Abrams, the loader wiped sweat from his face before shoving another 120mm canister round into the breach.

"Loaded!"

"Fire!"

BOOM.

The canister shell detonated directly into the advancing horde only fifty meters ahead of the tank.

The effect was horrifying.

The shotgun-like spread vaporized the entire front wave instantly, ripping infected apart across a wide corridor while nearby bodies were thrown backward through the smoke.

But behind them—

More kept charging.

The commander looked through his thermal sight and felt his stomach tighten.

The infected were so numerous now that the thermal display looked almost completely white from body heat.

"Driver, reverse five meters!"

The Abrams backed up slowly while infantry moved alongside it using the armor as mobile cover.

Nearby, an M2 Bradley IFV unleashed continuous bursts from its Bushmaster cannon into infected flooding through a partially collapsed checkpoint barrier.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

Explosive rounds tore through the horde while the Bradley’s coaxial machine gun swept side to side across the survivors.

The battlefield around the vehicle looked unreal.

Bodies everywhere.

Burning wreckage.

Cratered roads.

And still—

The infected kept coming through the smoke.

Inside the Bradley, the gunner shook his head slightly.

"How the hell are there still this many?"

Nobody answered him.

Because outside the base perimeter, beyond the artillery strikes and bomb craters—

The darkness still moved.

Above the battlefield, the Lockheed AC-130 continued circling like an executioner.

Inside the aircraft, the fire control officer scanned the battlefield continuously.

"Hunter cluster near Sector Delta," he reported.

"Danger close?"

The officer checked the coordinates.

"...Very."

The pilot banked the aircraft slightly.

"Send the forty."

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The 40mm rounds landed directly outside the trench network, blasting apart infected and Hunters massing for another push. Dirt, blood, and burning debris erupted across the battlefield while soldiers below instinctively ducked from the shockwaves.

Then the 105mm fired again.

The shell landed directly inside a dense cluster of infected preparing to breach the eastern barricades.

The explosion erased the entire section instantly.

Back in the trenches, soldiers actually cheered hearing the impact.

"THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!"

Then the sky screamed again.

BRRRRRRTTTT.

The Fairchild Republic A-10 Thunderbolt II returned low over the battlefield.

The Warthog’s GAU-8 Avenger cannon ripped through another charging wave of infected, carving huge bloody lanes through the horde while shattered bodies exploded across the mud.

The pilot immediately banked for another pass.

"Missile away."

An AGM-65 Maverick streaked downward before detonating near a massive concentration of infected approaching from the western fields.

The explosion lit up the entire sector.

Even with all that firepower—

The pressure never disappeared.

Hours passed like that.

Fighting.

Reloading.

More fighting.

The defenders held their ground meter by meter while artillery still thundered deeper behind the infected lines.

But eventually—

Small problems began appearing.

Inside one trench, an M240 gunner looked down at the remaining ammunition belts beside him.

"...That’s it?"

His assistant checked the crate again.

Only two belts left.

Nearby, another rifleman reached into an ammunition box.

Empty.

Further down the line, one Bradley commander radioed back toward logistics.

"Bravo Two requesting immediate 25mm resupply."

Static answered first.

Then.

"Negative. Delays across all supply routes."

Inside the command center, one of the logistics officers slowly turned toward Adrian.

His face looked pale beneath the monitor glow.

"Sir..."

Adrian looked over immediately.

"What is it?"

The officer hesitated briefly before answering.

"Our ammunition expenditure is exceeding projections."

Another logistics screen updated.

Red warnings appeared across multiple sectors.

155mm stocks dropping.

25mm reserves falling.

7.62 ammunition critically high usage.

Even the Abrams canister rounds were being consumed faster than expected.

Outside the battlefield still raged violently.

But now, a new problem had quietly begun creeping into the fight.

"Shit, I guess we have to restock then."