RED MIST

Family

   It was all prophesied ever since the beginning. The downfall of humanity. Ever since the concept of sentience evolved and engraved into our minds, that the prophecy of our downfall began. Ever since we knew about our existence in this very universe, we set the nails for our own coffin. We are the inventor, we are the innovator, we are the destroyer. We, humans, are doomed to perish.

...

   July 19th 3045,
   524 years after the incident,
   Somewhere in corrupted Earth..

   "BV1 to comms, do you copy?" the intercom glitched out.
   They were at ruins of a city, buried deep within sands.
   "No use. The connection to comms failed." A man said. He was the one refering himself as BV1.
   "I guess we are stranded here?" The other man replied. On his left chest was a patch, read BV2. "Nothing but a dust of sands."
   "We could walk to the nearest station." BV1 said. "About thirty kilometres from here, to the southeast." He pointed the direction.
   "Yeah, that is.." BV2 chuckled. "If the station still operational. We haven't heard about that station for years. No one dared to scout there, the corruption level is just too high."
   "As if we have another option than to wait our demise here." BV1 said. "If we're going to die, I at least want to die as a hero, fighting one of those infected creatures."
   BV2 stared at him. He then rolled his eye out and put his helmet back on. "Sure.. if you really want to die like that. As you said, as if we have another option to choose."

   They then set their foot into the station. Along the way was quiet, with the sun blazing them hot. If not because of their adaptive suits, they were probably fried already. Thirty kilometres were not a short distance, even for a man in an enchanted suit, it'll took a day or so, considering the rough and uncharted terrain that could be filled with dangers.

   Fortunately, after what it seemed to be hours of travel by foot, they reached the outskirts of the area where the station was. But the worst part just about to begin. As they saw it, the area surrounding the station was polluted by red mist, indicating an extreme level of corruption. red glowing vines also spotted spreading from the buildings into the ground.

   "BV1 to comms, do you copy?" He tried to communicate.
   After a while, a glitched out voice reached them.
   "This is comms, proceed with communication." It said.
   "Unbelievable.." BV2 seemed surprised. "Even after this years and tons of corruption surrounding it.. there's still signal radiating from the station."
   "This is BV1, I'm here with BV2. We lost our carrier due to the storm. BV765 and 921 declared dead. We cannot retrieve the bodies." He reported.
   A static signal greeted them for several second.
   "Copy that. Where is your location now?" The comms replied.
   "Outskirts of Fort Magnus. South side." He said. "Station Black Vulture.." He stopped to gaze upon the corrupted building. "Our station.."
   "Affirmative. We'll begin your extraction now. Please stand by." The comms cut off.

...

   BVA-UHMF Main Space Station,
   150 Kilometres above Earth..

   "Welcome back, BV1, BV2.." A woman dressed in a quite fancy uniform greeted them. She was a high ranking officer, with a patch on her left chest read BV7.
   "Another failed mission..? Even from you I can't expect much.." An old man also present in the room. His patch read BV0. He was the main commander of the whole BVA force.
   BV1 took off his helmet, followed by BV2.
   "The storm is getting stronger by days. If this keeps going, we will lost connection to Earth completely." BV1 explained.
   "Is there any chance we can retake our planet?" BV7 asked genuinely.
   BV2 stared at her with concern. He then shifted his stare to BV1, who was staring back at him.
   "Only if we can find the source of the storm."

   Black Vulture Agency. An elite force formed as a branch of the United Humankind Military Force or UHMF. They were consisted of many squads, ranging from two to six members each. Commonly deployed in reconnaissance mission, the Black Vulture or more commonly referred as BVA held the most information about the wasteland Earth. But although they were an elite force, they were not uncommon with casualties and often met with many grief. The condition on Earth was too harsh and violent to live in. This very reason was why those who joined the BVA accepted the terms that their identity erased from existence, to minimise grief upon members. Once they're in BVA, they're as good as dead.