For the next few days, you work with the team on the egg. The death toll has risen past a hundred thousand and according to all available resources, D.C. is still holding back the creatures.

That night, you sit down at your desk, grab a paper and pencil and begin a report.

"Two week's underground and still no sign of a solution. They've taken a majority of the surface. Only Washington D.C. still stands. They've ravaged the country and the rest of the world. This is an enemy I fear we cannot defeat. Out best chance is to live on and pray they don't find us. The death toll rises by the hundreds everyday. We may very well be the last people alive outside of D.C. The creatures have spread across the oceans to the other continents. There's little hope in this fight, but we must push on for our posterity. We must give THEM something to remember us for, that we didn't give up, even in the face of hopeless odds. We must press on and live."

You read over your words again and again. Something about the first few sentences is so familiar. You've heard them somewhere. But where?

Suddenly, the lights go dead and flashing, red, emergency lights illuminate your small room. Your mind floods with a memory of the base filled with this eerie crimson glow. A solemn groan echoed through the base. You clutch your report in one hand and inch towards the door. Twisting the knob, you bolt down the hall, and down to sub-level four.

Panting you stumble into the control room. "They're here."

A roar bounces through the room, seeming to come from all directions. Then, one of the creatures bursts into the room and the last thing you see is it's spiked foreleg rushing towards your face.

Go to part 32