PROJECT: WONDERLAND

82. CANYON

As the squad pressed forward, the canyon grew eerily quiet, the silence unnerving.

M3's instincts flared, his voice breaking the stillness.
"Guys, something's wrong. It's too quiet. Stay sharp!"

The team moved cautiously, weapons raised, scanning their surroundings. As they continued, the faint outlines of figures began to appear atop the cliffs on either side of the canyon.

Silhouetted by the setting sun, the figures looked like warriors, primitive and fierce, mounted on what appeared to be horses. Their spears glinted in the fading light, and their eyes were locked on the squad below.

M3's heart skipped a beat.
"What... people? Lower your weapons! Keep your hands up and move slowly!"

He raised his voice, calling out to the shadowy figures.
"Excuse us! We're just passing through! We mean you no harm!"

As they drew closer, something felt off. The figures weren't quite human.

Blastmaster, always quick to observe, whispered to M3.
"Sir, those aren't..."

M3 cut him off, his suspicions growing.
"Guys, slowly put on your goggle vision. Let's see if it's working again."

The team donned their goggles, and to their surprise, the systems flickered back to life, revealing the truth.

M3's eyes widened.
"What the hell is that?"

The figures weren't human at all. They were Farvarians—tall, wiry humanoid mandrills, their faces painted with vibrant tribal markings, exuding the presence of a formidable warrior clan. Their mounts were not horses but enormous hound buggies—hyenas the size of stallions, as fast as cheetahs and twice as ferocious.

M3 took a deep breath, his tone calm but firm.
"Stay cool. Slow and steady."

But then something caught his eye in the distance, something strange and out of place.
"Wait, am I seeing things, or is this mirage...?"

Hammer, just as bewildered, spoke up.
"No, sir! I see it too!"

Ahead of them, several sandmobiles were parked, abandoned in the sand, half-buried but seemingly intact. It was their best chance for survival.

M3 nodded, determination flashing in his eyes.
"Let's move! We need those vehicles."

But before they could make their move, the Farvarians let out a wild, guttural cry, the echo of their mandrill-like howls reverberating through the canyon. The hound buggies roaro, ready to pursue.

M3 cursed under his breath.
"Shit! Run!"

In a flash, the Farvarians and their hound buggies descended the cliffs with terrifying speed. Some hurled sharpened wooden spears, while others loosed arrows that whistled through the air, finding their marks with deadly precision. Soldiers fell as the projectiles struck, their bodies collapsing into the sand.

The survivors sprinted for the sandmobiles, hearts pounding, the sound of the hyenas' snarls growing louder by the second.

M3 reached the closest vehicle and jumped in, desperately fumbling with the ignition.
"Come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth, praying the engine would roar to life.

Suddenly, the engine sputtered and then...
"Brrmmm!"

The sandmobile roared to life. M3 didn't waste a second.
"Move! Get in! Now!"

The squad piled into the vehicles, slamming the gas pedals as the Farvarians closed in. The desert air filled with the sounds of howling hyenas and the rumble of engines. A high-speed chase erupted, the Farvarians on their hound buggies in hot pursuit of the squad's sandmobiles, their deadly arrows, spears. and other gears raining down like a storm.

The battle for survival in the unforgiving desert had begun.

To be continued...