"Well goddamn, we should clean them up," Adrian said.

The command center remained quiet for a moment after that.

Not because anyone disagreed.

But because after three straight days of nonstop fighting, hearing that only ten thousand infected remained almost felt unreal.

Ten thousand still sounded terrifying in normal circumstances.

But compared to the nightmare they had just survived?

Compared to the hundreds of thousands that once flooded southern Luzon?

It finally felt manageable.

Adrian stepped closer toward the tactical display while operators updated the remaining infected positions in real time.

The red clusters across the map were noticeably smaller now.

Scattered. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Fragmented.

Most of the infected had lost any organized momentum after the constant bombardments.

Entire sections of the swarm had simply ceased to exist beneath artillery and airstrikes.

"Remaining concentrations?" Adrian asked.

One analyst immediately responded.

"Largest cluster estimated at around three thousand moving southwest through destroyed highway sectors. Smaller groups are scattered around nearby towns and open terrain."

Another operator switched the drone feed.

The screen showed what remained of the battlefield south of Basa Air Base.

The sight looked apocalyptic.

Burned highways stretched across cratered terrain while thick smoke drifted over shattered buildings and destroyed forests. Wrecked vehicles littered every road. Entire fields looked blackened from repeated bombardments.

And everywhere—

Bodies.

Thousands upon thousands of bodies.

The infected dead covered roads so densely in some areas that the pavement beneath them was no longer visible.

Even the surviving infected seemed slower now.

Not physically.

But strategically.

The endless momentum they once had was gone.

"Looks like we finally broke them," one officer muttered quietly.

Adrian crossed his arms while studying the drone feeds.

"Don’t underestimate them yet," he replied. "A cornered animal is still dangerous."

"Yes, sir."

Outside Basa Air Base, the frontline troops received the new orders.

Cleanup operations.

The mood across the trenches immediately changed.

Not relaxed.

Nobody was stupid enough to relax around infected.

But there was finally something close to hope.

The soldiers could feel it.

They had survived the worst part.

Engines roared throughout the base as armored units began mobilizing again.

Rows of M1 Abrams tanks rolled out from defensive positions while M2 Bradley IFVs followed close behind carrying infantry squads prepared to sweep through the remaining infected pockets.

Overhead, drones launched continuously from the airfield to provide targeting support and reconnaissance.

The cleanup operation began before sunrise.

The southern gates of Basa Air Base slowly opened while armored columns pushed outward into the ruined countryside.

The sight outside the perimeter looked horrifying even for hardened soldiers.

Entire roads had vanished beneath craters.

Destroyed infected bodies lay piled against collapsed barricades and burned-out vehicles.

The smell hit them immediately.

Rotting flesh.

Smoke.

Burned metal.

Blood.

One infantryman riding inside a Bradley looked out through the vision block and grimaced.

"...Jesus Christ."

Nobody answered him.

Because nobody had words for this anymore.

The armored convoy continued moving south carefully while drones scanned ahead for movement.

The remaining infected were no longer charging in endless waves.

Now they moved in scattered groups through ruined terrain like predators trying to survive after losing their pack.

"Contact front," one Bradley commander reported over comms.

The convoy slowed immediately.

Ahead of them, several dozen infected emerged from behind overturned civilian vehicles blocking the road.

The response was immediate.

The Bradley’s Bushmaster cannon opened fire.

THUMP THUMP THUMP.

The explosive 25mm rounds tore the infected apart instantly, shredding bodies across the asphalt while nearby infantrymen finished the survivors with controlled rifle bursts.

The convoy kept moving.

That pattern repeated throughout the day.

Small groups.

Then larger groups.

Sometimes hundreds.

Sometimes only dozens.

Every single time, the defenders answered with overwhelming firepower.

One Abrams tank fired a canister round into a cluster of infected trapped between destroyed buses, vaporizing the entire group instantly.

Further west, infantry squads swept through abandoned neighborhoods house by house while drones hovered overhead searching for movement through thermal imaging.

The remaining Hunters proved far more dangerous.

Even after losing most of the swarm, the surviving Hunters still attacked aggressively.

One cleanup squad learned that the hard way.

The infantry unit had just cleared a destroyed gas station when a Hunter burst through the roof of a nearby building and slammed directly into the rear soldier.

"CONTACT!"

Gunfire exploded instantly across the street.

The Hunter tore into the fallen soldier while nearby infantry redirected fire toward it. M4 carbines cracked nonstop while an M249 SAW gunner dumped nearly half a belt into the creature at close range.

Still, it kept moving.

The Hunter leapt toward another soldier only for a Bradley parked nearby to rotate its turret and fire a burst from the Bushmaster cannon directly through the side of the building.

The wall exploded apart.

The Hunter disappeared beneath concrete dust and shattered debris.

When the smoke cleared, half the gas station had collapsed on top of the creature.

The cleanup operations continued relentlessly throughout the day and into the next.

The remaining infected were hunted continuously from the air and ground.

The MQ-9 Reaper drones tracked fleeing groups through forests and ruined highways while artillery occasionally fired precision strikes against larger concentrations attempting to regroup.

Meanwhile, the Fairchild Republic A-10 Thunderbolt II aircraft still conducted occasional gun runs against surviving infected masses too large for infantry sweeps.

The battlefield slowly grew quieter.

For the first time in days, there were moments where soldiers could actually hear the wind instead of constant explosions.

That alone felt strange.

By the second day of cleanup operations, the remaining infected numbers collapsed even further.

Thousands became hundreds.

Hundreds became scattered pockets.

Inside the command center, the updated tactical map looked almost empty compared to before.

The endless sea of red markers was gone.

Only scattered signatures remained across southern sectors.

One analyst looked toward Adrian while updating the latest estimates.

"Remaining infected count is now below one thousand, sir."

Adrian stared quietly at the map for several seconds.

The war that almost overran Basa Air Base had nearly ended.

Outside, armored units continued sweeping through burning ruins beneath dark smoke-filled skies while infantry squads hunted the last surviving infected through abandoned towns and collapsed highways.

The cleanup had begun.

And this time, humanity was winning.

However, somewhere from the other ends of the Earth, someone was not happy.