The Revenants are not organized. They are not commanded.

They rise where burial was rushed, where gas settled thick in trenches, where the earth has been churned too violently to keep what it was given. They are the accumulation of war’s excess — soldiers left too long in mud, graves collapsed under artillery, chemical residues clinging to flesh.

They spread where mass death outpaces memory. They do not negotiate and they do not retreat. If left unchecked, they transform battlefields into permanent wounds in the landscape. The longer the war endures, the stronger they become.