War For The Planet Of The Apes (2027)

He raised his hand, the signal to move. Two hundred apes—warriors, mothers, the elderly, the infant—rose from the mud. They had no artillery. No air support. No supply lines. They had fists like iron, teeth like daggers, and a leader who had already died inside.

For two years, since the fall of San Francisco, the Colonel had hunted them. Not with the clumsy, panicked raids of the first human survivors, but with a surgeon’s precision. His soldiers wore the skulls of apes on their armor. They burned the old growth to flush out the hidden. They called him a patriot. The apes called him a ghost—a thing that killed without face or mercy. War for the Planet of the Apes

“The children are starving,” Maurice signed. “The horses are dead. We cannot run again.” He raised his hand, the signal to move

“Tomorrow, we finish the dirty work. No prisoners. Not even the young.” No air support

The rain fell harder. The world held its breath.