The radio crackled with static as Trench adjusted the frequency, his fingers steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. Reyes sat opposite him, her jaw tight, eyes scanning the darkened street outside the gas station. Brimstone Ridge had gone silent again, but they both knew better than to trust the stillness.

"Command, this is Agent Trench," he spoke into the receiver. "Brimstone Ridge has confirmed AWE activity. Encountered hostile entity. No casualties, but it is beyond standard containment protocols. Requesting immediate backup. Over."

The response was immediate but garbled, the interference warping the words into something barely intelligible.

"...Copy... inbound team... six hours... hold position... avoid engagement... repeat, do not—"

The transmission cut off with a sharp burst of static. Trench stared at the radio for a moment, then exchanged a look with Reyes.

"Six hours," she muttered. "Might as well be six days."

Trench exhaled slowly, weighing their options. "We can't sit here and wait. That thing—whatever it is—let us go. I don't think it will stay passive for long. We need to gather intel before the team arrives. Find out what happened to the townsfolk."

Reyes arched an eyebrow. "You want to go back out there? After what we just saw?"

Trench adjusted his grip on his service weapon. "We came here to contain an AWE. We don't know what it wants, how far it can spread, or if it's even bound to this location. If we wait, we lose whatever advantage we might have."

She sighed but nodded. "Fine. But we do this smart. No splitting up, and if things go south, we fall back."

Trench agreed, and they moved out, keeping low as they crossed the deserted street. The sheriff's station still loomed ahead, its doors left ajar from their hasty retreat.

Inside, the air was heavier now, tinged with something metallic. The radio on the sheriff's desk buzzed intermittently, though no one was there to operate it. Trench moved toward the evidence board, studying the cryptic scrawls left behind by Sheriff Danvers. The word "HUNGER" stood out among a mess of hastily pinned reports.

Reyes flipped through an open ledger, her face darkening. "Trench... these are missing persons reports. At least a dozen from the past month. Mostly locals, but a few travelers too. None of them ever left town."

A low creak echoed from the back office. Both agents snapped toward the sound, weapons raised.

Trench took point, pushing open the door to reveal a dimly lit filing room. Cabinets stood open, their contents scattered. In the far corner, hunched against the wall, was a man.

Or at least, what was left of him.

Sheriff Danvers.

His uniform was torn, his body gaunt and pale as if something had drained him dry. His eyes, milky and unfocused, darted to them as he gasped out something unintelligible.

Reyes moved cautiously closer. "Sheriff? Can you hear me? What happened here?"

Danvers trembled, his mouth opening and closing before he finally choked out a single, ragged word.

"Feed."

Then the lights flickered, and the air around them shifted. The shadows stretched unnaturally, coiling along the walls.

The hum was back.

"Trench—" Reyes started, but it was too late.

A force slammed into them, sending them crashing into the desks. The room warped, dimensions distorting as if the very fabric of space was unraveling. Trench fought against the pull, grabbing Reyes by the wrist and yanking her toward the exit.

Behind them, Danvers let out an inhuman wail as the darkness swallowed him whole.

They barely made it outside before the sheriff's station imploded, collapsing in on itself as if consumed from within. Dust and debris rained down, forcing them to cover their faces. When the air finally cleared, the building was gone—nothing but a crater where it once stood.

Reyes coughed, shaking dust from her hair. "Well. That's new."

Trench looked back at the void left behind, his grip tightening around his weapon. "We need to move. Now."

The entity wasn't just feeding.

It was growing.