Date: April 19th, 2027
Place: New York City – Lower East Side – Cleared Apartment Building
---
The building felt different once it was cleared.
The silence was no longer the suffocating quiet of lurking death, but something heavier — like a tomb. The hallways, streaked with blood and broken furniture, told the stories of the people who'd once lived here. Families. Students. Workers. All gone.
And now it was ours.
Not in any way that felt like victory. But in the sense that we were the last ones left to walk these halls.
---
We decided to scavenge what we could before stepping outside.
"Better to strip our own place clean first," Henry muttered as we stood in the lobby that morning, the pale light of day filtering through broken windows. "No point leaving food in someone else's cupboards while we starve."
Miguel cracked his knuckles, smirking faintly. "I like this plan. Means I don't have to dodge freaks while I'm digging through someone's cereal box."
Claire hugged her hoodie tighter around herself, her hazel eyes flicking nervously between us. "Do we… take everything? Even from the apartments where people…"
She trailed off.
Henry grunted. "You want to leave it for the dead? That's how you join 'em."
Claire's lips pressed tight. She didn't argue, but her face stayed pale.
I adjusted my grip on the hammer, the weight familiar now, comforting. "We'll take what we need. Nothing more. Nothing wasted."
Miguel gave me a look, smirk quirking. "So, Robin Hood, huh?"
"Robin Hood didn't loot cans of beans," I said flatly.
Claire snorted unexpectedly. Miguel blinked, then laughed. Even Henry's lips twitched, though he masked it with a cough.
For the first time, scavenging didn't feel like walking into another grave.
---
We split into pairs. Miguel insisted on going with Claire — "so I can keep the angel safe," he joked, earning another glare — which left Henry and me.
We moved floor by floor.
Most apartments were wrecked, furniture overturned, doors clawed off their hinges. But some had been abandoned in haste — half-eaten meals still on tables, bags left by doors.
Henry rifled through a kitchen with grim efficiency, tossing cans into his inventory. "Spam. Beans. Peaches. Christ, it's like the world's shittiest buffet."
I pulled open a drawer and found a set of steak knives. The HUD shimmered.
[Kitchen Knife – Common Weapon]
[Durability: 35/35]
[Damage: +3, +10% chance to bleed on strike.]
I stored them, the faint shimmer of Inventory swallowing the blades. "Weapons too. Even small ones matter."
Henry grunted. "Not much use if you don't know where to stick it."
I glanced at him. "You do?"
His gray eyes met mine, tired but sharp. "Foreman doesn't just swing hammers. I've broken up fights with steel bars before. Same principle. Just messier now."
We moved on in silence after that.
---
On the fourth floor, we found something stranger.
A woman's apartment, untouched. The door was locked, but Henry's crowbar made quick work of it. Inside, everything was neat, almost eerily so — as if she'd just stepped out for groceries.
On the dresser was a glowing book.
The HUD flared as I touched it.
[Skill Book – Common]
[Skill: Quick Step – Active]
[Effect: +25% movement speed for 3s. SP Cost: 10. Cooldown: 15s.]
Henry whistled low. "Now that's new."
"Loot drops," I muttered. "Not just from monsters. From… everywhere."
He squinted at the glowing letters only I could see. "You gonna take it, or just stare at it?"
I thought for a long moment. Then I stored it in my Inventory. "Not yet. We'll figure out who needs it most."
Henry's brows furrowed. "You serious? You're the only one built like a damn tank. You'd get the most out of it."
"Maybe," I said quietly. "But if Claire needs it more one day, it'll go to her."
Henry stared at me, incredulous. Then he shook his head, chuckling bitterly. "You're either the dumbest son of a bitch alive… or the last one worth following."
I didn't reply.
---
When we regrouped in the lobby, Miguel's inventory clinked with cans and bottles. "Man, I hit the jackpot. Found a whole stash of water bottles. Some jerk must've been hoarding."
Claire followed him, her arms full of a backpack she'd found. She placed it gently on the table. "I… I found this in a closet. Thought it might help."
The HUD shimmered faintly.
[Traveler's Backpack – Common Equipment]
[Effect: +5 Inventory Slots when equipped.]
Miguel's eyes went wide. "Holy shit, that's gold."
Henry whistled low. "System's throwing you freebies now."
Claire hugged it close, hesitant. "Should I… keep it?"
All eyes turned to me.
I studied the pack. "Yes. You need it more than any of us."
Miguel frowned. "What? No way—"
"Claire has the least slots," I said firmly. "And her supplies keep us alive. Food, bandages, medicine. The more she can carry, the better our chances."
Claire's hazel eyes shimmered, her lips parting. "Elias…"
"Put it on," I said gently.
She did. The straps hung loose on her small frame, but the glow faded as the pack fused into her Inventory.
[Claire Thompson – Inventory Slots: 8 → 13]
Her breath caught softly. "It… it worked."
Miguel muttered something in Spanish, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But next loot drop's mine."
Henry snorted. "Kid, if you survive long enough, maybe."
Miguel scowled, but didn't argue.
---
We spent hours combing through the building. By the end, our Inventories were stacked:
Elias: Knives, canned goods, bottled water, bandages, Brute Fang.
Claire: Traveler's Backpack equipped, more food, a small med kit.
Miguel: Cans, water, a baseball bat wrapped in duct tape.
Henry: Tools, crowbar, nails, hammer.
When we finally slumped back into the lobby, sweat-soaked and exhausted, the air was thick with silence.
Miguel sprawled on the floor, tossing a can of peaches from hand to hand. "Never thought I'd be happy to see fruit in a can. World's gone to hell."
Claire sat cross-legged, carefully organizing her items. Her fingers traced the med kit gently, reverently, as if it were treasure.
Henry leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Better than nothing. But this won't last us a week."
I looked at the pile of supplies. Food, water, weapons. Fragile lifelines in a world that had already drowned.
"No," I said softly. "But it's enough for today."
And in this world, that mattered.
---
That night, as we sat around the dim glow of a cracked lantern Miguel had scavenged, the System's HUD flickered faintly before us all.
Not announcements. Not commands. Just silent reminders, lingering.
HP. MP. SP. Essence.
Like numbers etched over our humanity.
Miguel cursed softly. "Still weird, seeing it every time I blink. Like I'm a goddamn video game."
Claire hugged her knees, her voice soft. "It feels like… we're not people anymore. Just stats."
Henry grunted. "That's the point. System doesn't care if you cry, or bleed, or miss your mom. Just cares if you swing hard enough."
I stared at the faint glow of my HUD, my hand tightening on the hammer.
"Then we make it care," I said quietly.
No one spoke after that. But I saw the way Miguel smirked faintly, the way Claire's eyes softened, the way Henry's gaze lingered on me, sharper than before.
---