The night was not even over.
And another wave was already coming.
Inside Basa Air Base's command center, nobody spoke.
They simply stared at the tactical display.
The northern drone feed remained projected on the massive screen.
Thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
Then more.
The thermal signatures stretched beyond the camera's field of view.
The infected looked like an ocean.
A living ocean.
And it was moving south.
Toward them.
Toward humanity.
Ryan slowly put his coffee down.
"I don't think we're fighting a horde anymore."
Nobody disagreed.
One analyst quietly spoke.
"At this point…this qualifies as a migration event."
Another analyst shook his head.
"No."
His finger pointed toward the screen.
"They're all moving in one direction."
Silence followed.
Because everyone understood the implication.
This wasn't migration.
This wasn't coincidence.
This wasn't random.
Somebody was calling them.
Somebody was directing them.
Adrian already knew the answer.
