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🚹 THE SECRET OF OUTPOST 4: WHEN THE NEST AWOKEN / Chapter 10 / 15

Chapter 10 - THE HYBRID INFILTRATION“The guard lowered his rifle... because the face beneath the helmet was smiling.”Chaos erupted inside Guard Post Alpha. Lights flickered, alarms blared, and smoke billowed from the collapsed foundation.

Lieutenant Vance Jr.—the bitter, power-hungry son of the late Commander Vance—pulled his sidearm and aimed into the dust storm. He had joined the containment force specifically to avenge his father’s death and claim the bio-weapon for himself.

“Hold your fire! Identify yourself!” Vance Jr. barked into the haze.

From the shadows emerged a tall figure clad in a torn, blackened military uniform. But it wasn't a monster. It was Alex. His skin was pale, almost translucent, covered in fine, shimmering black micro-scales that caught the light like polished obsidian. His eyes burned with an ethereal yellow glow.

“You look just like your father,” Alex’s voice sounded like two voices speaking at once—a human whisper overlaid with a deadly serpent’s hiss. “Arrogant. Blind.”

Vance Jr. squeezed the trigger. Three armor-piercing rounds struck Alex directly in the chest.

Alex didn't fall. He didn't even flinch. The entry wounds oozed black, viscous venom that instantly neutralized the kinetic impact, pushing the lead bullets back out of his flesh until they clattered harmlessly onto the metal floor.

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The hospital room smelled sharply of bleach and antiseptic, a stark contrast to the suffocating scent of the white roses scattered across the linoleum floor. Flynn remained frozen beside the bed, his broad shoulders slumped, the formidable CEO of Vance Global reduced to a hollow, trembling shell.

The hospital room smelled sharply of bleach and antiseptic, a stark cont...

Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering wheel of his matte-black Bentley, staring at the imposing wrought-iron gates of his own estate. To the world, the Sterling name was synonymous with untouchable wealth, bleeding-edge tech investments, and a picture-perfect modern family. But as the automated gates slid open with a soft, expensive hum, Arthur didn't feel like a master of a universe; he felt like a stranger walking into a trap he had built with his own hands.

Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering...

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverberating directly through the plaster of the master bedroom's walk-in closet wall.

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverbe...

“My blood isn't human anymore, Lieutenant,” Alex whispered, stepping closer. “Your bullets are just iron to me.”

Behind Alex, emerging from the cracked foundation, rose two massive, mutated king cobras—their hoods wide enough to block out the emergency lights, their fangs dripping with acidic neurotoxin.

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