Date: April 20th, 2027
Place: New York City – Lower East Side – Streets outside the Apartment Building
---
The city was still.
Not silent, not really — there were groans drifting faintly from alleys, a faint metallic creak as the wind pushed on bent steel signs, the crackle of some distant fire still smoldering days after the collapse. But compared to what it had been just three days ago, New York felt like a corpse that hadn't yet finished decaying.
The four of us stood just beyond the shattered glass of the apartment lobby, staring out. Cars lined the streets in chaotic patterns — some crashed into one another, others burned-out shells. A delivery truck had plowed halfway into a storefront across the street, its cargo door still half-open. The stench of rot hung thick, and the wind carried it straight into us.
Claire stayed closest to me, the new kitchen knife I'd given her clutched tight against her side. Her hazel eyes darted everywhere, her lips pressed together. Miguel walked ahead with a reckless bounce in his step, his wrench slung over one shoulder like he was strutting into a playground. Henry brought up the rear, his eyes sharp and bitter, crowbar resting in his grip like he'd been born holding it.
Me? I kept the hammer raised loosely, scanning windows, shadows, alleys. The HUD shimmered faintly, reassuring but distant.
[Elias Cross – Level 4 Laborer]
HP: 170/170 | SP: 130/130 | MP: 20/20
Essence: 35/100 (Next Level)
Numbers weren't enough to keep us alive.
---
We moved cautiously down the block.
Miguel snorted suddenly, pointing. "Bodega. Doors are smashed. Bet we'll find something."
Henry muttered, "Bet it's picked clean."
"Then you'll owe me if it isn't," Miguel shot back.
"Kid, I wouldn't owe you a piss break."
Despite the back-and-forth, we moved toward it. The glass door was shattered inward. Inside, shelves were overturned, food trampled. Flies buzzed thick over a blackened smear where something had rotted.
Miguel grinned, crouching to grab a box of sealed crackers that had rolled under a shelf. "Jackpot."
"Stay sharp," I muttered.
The HUD flickered.
[Warning: Hostile Signatures Detected – 3]
"Three," I said quickly.
Claire froze. "Where?"
Groans answered her.
Behind the counter, three shapes stumbled into view, pale eyes burning, jaws slack.
Miguel swore. "Well shit."
"Line!" I barked. "Claire, stay behind!"
Miguel charged with a roar, wrench swinging. It connected with the first skull with a crack that echoed.
[Miguel – SP -6 → 104/110]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
Henry moved sharply to his right, crowbar stabbing forward with brutal precision into the temple of another.
[Henry – SP -4 → 88/92]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
The third lunged straight for Miguel's side. He stumbled, caught mid-swing.
"Move!" I snapped, surging forward. The hammer arced down in both hands, smashing through its skull. Bone and ichor burst outward.
[Elias – SP -8 → 122/130]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
The shop went still except for our ragged breaths.
Claire clutched her knife, trembling, her eyes darting between the corpses. "It was so fast—"
"Faster outside," Henry muttered, wiping his crowbar clean on a fallen rag.
---
We scavenged quickly. Miguel stuffed crackers and a pair of sealed water bottles into his Inventory. Claire found a dusty first-aid kit beneath the counter and lit up when she saw bandages inside.
HUD shimmered.
[Medical Kit – Common Item]
+5 Bandages, +2 Disinfectant Bottles
"Good," I said. "Keep it safe."
She nodded quickly, tucking it into her backpack.
---
We left the bodega and moved further down the street. The air felt heavier, the shadows longer. The city wasn't quiet anymore. It was watching.
The attack came at the next intersection.
The sound hit first: low, guttural moans, then dozens of dragging footsteps.
Shapes spilled from alleys and shattered doorways. Fifteen, maybe more.
Claire gasped. "Oh God—"
"Hold!" I barked. "Form up!"
Miguel grinned, wrench ready. "Finally, a real fight!"
Henry's lips curled. "You're out of your goddamn mind." But his crowbar lifted all the same.
---
The first wave lunged.
Miguel slammed his wrench down hard, skull bursting. He pivoted, swinging into a second.
[Miguel – SP -12 → 92/110]
[2 Zombies slain. +20 Essence distributed.]
Henry grunted, stepping in. His crowbar pierced an eye socket, jerking out in a spray.
[Henry – SP -6 → 82/92]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
I swung heavy, the hammer smashing into ribs, staggering one, then swinging back to crack another's skull.
[Elias – SP -12 → 110/130]
[2 Zombies slain. +20 Essence distributed.]
But they kept coming.
One lunged for Claire. Her knife flashed, cutting across its throat. Black ichor spilled, but it still clawed toward her.
"Elias!"
I surged forward, hammer smashing it down.
[Elias – SP -6 → 104/130]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
[Claire – Contribution +5 Essence.]
"Stay tight!" I snapped.
---
A zombie slammed into Miguel's side, claws raking deep. He staggered, cursing.
[Miguel – HP -15 → 100/115]
"Claire!"
"Minor Heal!"
Golden light flashed from her hands, washing over Miguel. His wound closed in seconds.
[Claire – MP -10 → 35/55]
[Miguel – HP +20 → 115/115]
[Claire – Support Contribution +10 Essence.]
Miguel froze, staring, then roared with laughter. "Do that again and I'll take ten more hits!"
Henry barked, "Shut up and swing, dumbass!" as his crowbar cracked another skull.
I shifted position, hammer cleaving through two more. My arms burned, sweat dripping, lungs on fire.
[Elias – HP -10 → 160/170]
[Elias – SP -14 → 90/130]
The numbers meant nothing. The weight in my chest did.
---
Finally, the last zombie staggered forward. Henry snarled, stabbing his crowbar clean through its skull.
[Henry – SP -4 → 78/92]
[Zombie slain. +10 Essence distributed.]
The intersection fell still again.
Bodies lay twisted across the asphalt, black ichor pooling in cracks. Our breaths echoed ragged in the heavy silence.
HUD flickered.
[Combat Cleared.]
[Total Essence: +120 distributed.]
---
Miguel bent over, panting, then laughed wildly. "That's how you do it!"
Claire leaned against the lamppost, pale, trembling. But she hadn't dropped her knife. Her eyes flicked to me. "I—I didn't freeze this time."
"You didn't," I said softly, wiping my hammer clean. "You stood."
Her lips trembled. She nodded, clutching the knife tighter.
Henry spat black blood from his lip, crowbar dripping. He looked at me hard. "You fight clean. But you burn too much stamina. You'll fall first in a real horde."
I met his gaze, steady. "Then I'll fall swinging."
His eyes narrowed. Then, slowly, he smirked. "Idiot."
But not without respect.
---
That night, in the quiet of the barricaded lobby, we sat around our lantern. No one spoke at first. The fight was still fresh, the taste of it heavy.
Finally Miguel broke it. "So. Gonna tell each other what we're working with? Or keep guessing?"
Henry snorted. "You mean classes."
Miguel smirked. "Yeah. You first, viejo."
Henry sighed. "Foreman. Crowbar hits harder, I burn less stamina swinging. That's it."
Miguel laughed. "Figures. I'm Brawler. More strength with blunt weapons, more stamina burn though."
Claire hesitated. Her hazel eyes flicked to me. Then she whispered, "Medic. Common. Just… Minor Heal right now."
All eyes turned to me.
I met them steadily. "Laborer. Lowest class. I get stamina boosts when using tools. That's all."
Silence.
Then Henry chuckled darkly. "Weakest class in the room. But you're still swinging harder than us."
Miguel grinned. "Guess it ain't the class. It's the idiot behind the hammer."
I didn't smile. But inside, the knot in my chest eased.
We weren't just strangers anymore.
We were survivors.
---