Date: April 19th, 2027
Place: New York City – Lower East Side – Elias' Apartment Building
---
The morning came gray and heavy.
No birds. No traffic. Just the distant moans of the dead and the occasional sharp crack of gunfire somewhere in the city.
Henry's barricaded apartment smelled of sawdust and sweat. We had slept in shifts, though none of it had been true rest. Miguel snored like thunder for two hours before jolting awake at every sound. Claire slept fitfully, curled on the couch, waking with a gasp more than once.
I didn't sleep at all.
Now we stood by the door, weapons in hand.
Miguel rolled his shoulders, wrench gleaming faintly in the dim light. "So. We sweeping the rest of the building, or sitting on our asses until something big comes knocking?"
"Clear it," I said.
Henry grunted. "That's suicide."
"It's survival," I answered. "We can't stay blind. The longer we hide, the more they gather."
Miguel smirked faintly. "Knew I liked you."
Henry muttered something under his breath, but when I glanced at him, he had his crowbar in hand.
Claire adjusted her grip on her stake, her hazel eyes darting nervously between us. "We'll… we'll do it together. Right?"
"Together," I said.
Henry sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Goddamn idiots." But he stepped forward all the same.
---
The hallway outside reeked of stale blood. Our boots crunched on broken glass as we moved. Claire stayed close to me, her small frame tense, every noise making her flinch. Miguel walked a step ahead, restless, itching for a fight. Henry brought up the rear, silent but watchful.
We reached the stairwell. Groans drifted up from below.
Miguel grinned grimly. "Sounds like a party."
Henry snorted. "That's what you call it?"
"Better than shitting myself in fear," Miguel shot back.
Claire winced. "Do you two ever stop?"
"Not if it keeps me alive," Miguel said.
"Not if it keeps me awake," Henry added dryly.
Despite herself, Claire let out a nervous laugh.
---
The first floor we hit was swarming.
Three zombies staggered from an open apartment, their pale eyes locking onto us instantly. Behind them, more shuffling echoed — at least a handful.
Miguel charged with a roar, wrench swinging. The first zombie's skull cracked under the blow, black ichor spraying. He laughed, a raw, angry sound.
Henry didn't hesitate either. His crowbar slammed into another's temple with brutal precision, dropping it instantly.
The third lunged for me. I brought the hammer down, the crunch echoing as bone shattered.
[Elias – SP -8 → 122 / 130]
Claire stood behind us, hands glowing faintly, ready. Her lips moved silently as if steadying herself.
More poured out.
Five this time, snarling, arms reaching.
"Back!" I barked.
Miguel grunted, swinging again. "I got two!"
Henry muttered, "Sloppy bastard," before stepping in, his crowbar slamming through a skull with surgical force.
"Keep the line!" I shouted.
The hammer arced, breaking bone. My arms burned, sweat dripping into my eyes.
[Elias – HP -10 → 114 / 170]
[Elias – SP -12 → 110 / 130]
Miguel cursed as claws raked across his shoulder.
[Miguel – HP -15 → 95 / 110]
"Claire!"
"Minor Heal!"
Golden light washed over Miguel. His wound closed, the blood vanishing as if it had never been.
[Claire – MP -10 → 45 / 55]
[Miguel – HP +20 → 115 / 110 (Capped)]
[Claire – Essence +10]
Miguel froze, staring at his healed arm. Then he grinned wide, feral. "Oh, I like this. Stick close to me, angel."
Claire flushed, glaring. "Don't call me that."
Henry snorted, smirking despite himself. "First woman to shut you down without trying."
Miguel shot him a look. "Shut up, viejo."
I smashed another skull in silence, the banter washing over me like background noise.
The last zombie dropped under Henry's crowbar, collapsing in a heap.
Silence.
The hall was slick with gore, the air thick with rot.
Miguel panted, wrench dripping black ichor. "Well. That was fun."
Claire trembled faintly, her hands still glowing, but her eyes stayed steady. She wasn't breaking. Not anymore.
Henry leaned on his crowbar, chest heaving. He glanced at me, gray eyes narrowing. "You kept them together. That's rare."
I just nodded.
---
We cleared two more floors. Each time, the dead came in groups — never overwhelming, but enough to test us.
Miguel grew louder, his roars echoing as he swung with reckless strength. Claire grew steadier, her voice firm each time she healed. Henry grew sharper, his crowbar always striking the perfect weak spot, his curses grumbled like punctuation.
And me? I just kept swinging. Steady. Relentless.
---
On the ground floor, we stopped.
The lobby was wrecked. The glass doors had been shattered inward, blood smeared across the tiles. A handful of corpses lay in twisted heaps near the entrance.
But no movement. No groans. Just silence.
Miguel exhaled heavily, running a hand over his shaved head. "Hell. We actually did it."
Claire sagged against the wall, pale and trembling. Sweat slicked her hair to her forehead. "It's… clear?"
Henry's gaze swept the lobby, his jaw tight. "For now."
Miguel dropped onto a broken chair, grinning through the blood. "Then I say we call this place ours. Base sweet base."
Henry barked a laugh, bitter but not cruel. "You think nailing some boards makes this home? Kid, you don't even know what's out there yet."
Miguel bristled. "Better than wandering like rats."
"Better than pretending four people can hold a building against the whole goddamn city," Henry shot back.
Their voices rose, sharp, heated.
Claire winced, covering her ears. "Stop. Please."
I stepped between them, hammer in hand, my voice firm but calm. "Arguing won't change what's outside. We cleared this place. That's a start. What comes next… we figure out together."
Miguel scowled, but sat back. Henry grunted, looking away.
Claire lowered her hands slowly, breathing out in relief.
For a moment, the four of us stood in the ruined lobby, the weight of the world pressing in from every direction.
But we were alive. Together.
And that meant something.
---
That night, as we dragged broken furniture into place and patched the lobby's shattered windows, Henry muttered under his breath.
"Maybe… maybe you're not all fools after all."
I glanced at him. He didn't meet my eyes.
But I saw it.
The first crack in his wall.
---