The first rule of surviving the apocalypse, he decided, was simple:
Don't scream.
The second rule:
Don't run unless you know where you're running to.
The third rule:
Always check the stairwell before feeling optimistic.
He stood outside his apartment door, baton in one hand, knife in the other.
The hallway was dim.
Emergency lights were long dead.
The only illumination came from sunlight leaking through cracked windows at the far end.
The smell was worse out here.
Rot. Mold. Stale air. Something metallic.
He stepped over the corpse he had just pulled inside earlier.
The system chimed politely.
Current MP: 2Required MP for Militia Unit: 20Remaining Gap: 18
"I can count," he muttered.
Encouragement Protocol: You are 10% of the way there.
"…That is not encouraging."
He walked toward the stairwell door.
It hung crooked now, half-broken from earlier impact.
He pressed his ear against it.
Silence.
He slowly pushed it open.
The stairwell descended into shadow.
Concrete walls.
Graffiti.
A faint dragging sound below.
He exhaled slowly.
"Okay."
He whispered.
"Floor four secured. Let's meet floor three."
He stepped down one stair.
Then another.
His shoe made a faint scrape.
The dragging sound stopped.
He froze.
"…That was not ideal."
A head slowly tilted upward from the landing below.
Gray skin.
Clouded eyes.
Jaw hanging open like it forgot its purpose.
The zombie blinked.
Then screamed.
It wasn't loud.
More like a broken alarm clock with anger issues.
And then—
Footsteps.
Multiple.
From below.
He stared at the system screen.
"Is there a stealth mode?"
Negative. Suggest controlled engagement.
"That sounds like a polite way to say 'fight them.'"
The first zombie lunged up the stairs.
He stepped aside and smashed the baton downward.
Crack.
The skull gave in like cheap drywall.
The body tumbled backward into two more infected.
They tripped.
He blinked.
"…Thank you, gravity."
He stabbed downward at the second one while it was tangled.
Knife in.
Knife out.
The third grabbed his leg.
He yelped.
"Absolutely not!"
He kicked its face with unnecessary indignation.
Baton down again.
Crunch.
The stairwell fell silent.
He stood there breathing hard.
Sweat already forming.
Basic Infected Eliminated: 3+6 MPCurrent MP: 8
He blinked.
"…Oh. That's better."
He wiped the knife on a zombie's shirt.
"I see. So stairwells are MP generators."
Accurate.
He looked upward.
"…Do not sound pleased."
He moved down another flight.
Floor three hallway door was partially open.
Dark inside.
Something moved.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Okay. Tactical question."
Listening.
"If I clear this entire building… does that count as 'secure immediate structure'?"
Yes.
He nodded.
"Then this building is now a business opportunity."
He kicked the door open.
Immediately regretted it.
Three zombies turned in unison.
He pointed at them.
"Listen. I just want to increase property value."
They sprinted.
These ones were faster.
"Oh. Oh that's new."
He barely dodged the first swipe.
The second grabbed his shoulder.
He shoved the knife into its neck.
Did nothing.
"…Right. Brain."
He corrected mid-stab and drove it into the skull.
The third tackled him.
They both crashed into a dusty couch.
He rolled.
Pinned it.
Brought the baton down repeatedly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
It stopped moving.
He lay there panting.
Dust floating in the sunlight.
"…This is cardio."
The system chimed again.
+6 MPCurrent MP: 14Building Security: 40%
He blinked.
"Forty percent?"
Estimated zombie presence in building reduced by approximately 40%.
He stood slowly.
"Okay."
He checked rooms quickly.
Two apartments empty.
One with barricaded door.
He knocked lightly.
Silence.
He knocked again.
A whisper from inside.
"…Go away."
He blinked.
"…You're alive?"
Silence.
Then the door creaked open slightly.
A young woman peeked out.
Eyes red from crying.
Holding a kitchen knife like it offended her personally.
She stared at him.
He stared back.
He gestured at the hallway.
"Good news. Property values improving."
She blinked.
"…What?"
"Zombies cleared. Mostly."
She stared harder.
"…You're insane."
He considered that.
"…Statistically possible."
The system chimed.
Survivor Detected.Optional Objective: Recruit.
He squinted.
"Recruit?"
Survivors increase supply cap and production potential.
He looked at her again.
She looked at the dead zombies.
"…Did you do that?"
He shrugged.
"They were being unreasonable."
She stared.
"…What are you?"
He checked his screen.
"Currently? Civilian with ambition."
She almost laughed despite herself.
"…The military left."
"Yes."
"They evacuated everyone important."
"Yes."
"They marked us as dead."
"Yes."
He nodded toward the stairwell.
"Which means we have low competition."
She blinked.
"…That's not how that works."
He smiled faintly.
"It is now."
The system displayed:
Offer Protection in Exchange for Cooperation?
He muttered.
"You are very transactional."
Efficiency improves survival.
He sighed.
He looked at her.
"Alright. Here's the deal."
She tightened her grip on the knife.
"Are you going to rob me?"
"No. That would be inefficient."
"…That's not comforting."
"I clear the building. We secure the floors. You help gather supplies. We fortify."
She blinked.
"You think we can survive here?"
He looked at the phone screen.
MP: 14.
Six more to first militia.
He looked at the hallway.
"I don't think."
He tapped the screen.
"I calculate."
She stared at him like he had finally snapped.
"…You're weird."
"Correct."
She hesitated.
Then slowly opened the door wider.
"…My name's Mira."
He nodded.
"Good. Don't die."
"…That's your introduction?"
"I'm workshopping it."
The system chimed.
Survivor Mira – RegisteredSupply Capacity Increased: +2Current Supply Cap: 12
He blinked.
"Oh."
He looked at her.
"You increased my supply capacity."
"…Excuse me?"
"Nothing. Welcome to management."
She stared.
"…You're really weird."
"Yes."
He moved toward the stairs again.
"Come on. Basement next."
Her eyes widened.
"Basement?!"
He nodded.
"Always check the basement."
"…Why?!"
"Because if there's a horror element, it's always downstairs."
She hesitated.
"…I hate that you're probably right."
They descended carefully.
The air grew colder.
Darker.
The smell intensified.
He paused halfway down.
"…That's new."
A low humming sound vibrated faintly from below.
Not mechanical.
Wet.
Organic.
Mira whispered.
"What is that?"
The system screen flickered.
Warning: Hive Signature DetectedSubterranean Activity ConfirmedThreat Level: Moderate
He stared.
"…You're joking."
Negative.
He looked at Mira.
"…Good news."
She swallowed.
"There's no good news."
"We have content."
She stared at him in disbelief.
"You are not normal."
They reached the basement door.
It was half torn off its hinges.
Inside—
Darkness.
Something pulsed faintly in the back corner.
He turned on phone flashlight.
The beam illuminated…
Organic growth.
Black.
Vein-like.
Clinging to walls.
Spreading across the floor.
Small egg-like sacs attached in clusters.
Mira covered her mouth.
"…Oh my god."
He leaned closer.
"…So this is why no one wanted the country."
One of the sacs twitched.
He took one step back.
"Okay."
Hive Node – Early StageDestroy recommended before maturation.
He pointed at it.
"With what? Optimism?"
Fire suggested.
He blinked.
"Do I look like I carry gasoline?"
Mira whispered.
"There's cleaning supplies storage room."
He turned slowly.
"…Mira."
She blinked.
"Yes?"
"You may have just increased your promotion chances."
She stared.
"I don't even work here!"
"You do now."
They moved quickly to the storage closet.
Bleach.
Old mops.
Cleaning chemicals.
He grabbed two bottles.
Mira grabbed a lighter from a junk drawer.
She held it up.
"…I used to smoke."
He nodded.
"Your bad habits are now strategic assets."
They returned to the hive growth.
The sacs twitched more violently now.
He poured chemicals over the organic mass.
It hissed.
"On three," he said.
"Why are we counting?"
"For drama."
He flicked the lighter.
Flame caught.
The mass ignited with a disgusting screech.
The basement filled with smoke.
The sacs burst.
Black fluid splattered.
Mira screamed.
He yanked her back up the stairs.
They slammed the door.
Locked it.
Smoke seeped under the frame.
He leaned against the wall breathing hard.
The system chimed loudly.
Hive Node Destroyed+30 MPCurrent MP: 44Militia Unit Unlocked
He blinked.
"…Thirty?"
Hive targets yield higher rewards.
He slowly smiled.
Mira stared at him.
"Why are you smiling?!"
He held up the glowing screen.
"Because I just unlocked infantry."
She stared at the air in front of him.
"…There's nothing there."
He looked at her.
"…Ah."
He tapped summon.
Blue light formed in the hallway.
She stumbled backward.
A uniformed soldier materialized.
Basic armor.
Rifle.
Blank expression.
Saluted.
"Awaiting orders, Commander."
Mira's jaw dropped.
"…WHAT."
He stared at the soldier.
Then at the system.
Then back at the soldier.
"…You're real?"
"Yes, Commander."
He nodded slowly.
"…Okay."
He turned to Mira.
"See?"
She stared at the armed soldier in their hallway.
"…You just spawned a man."
"Yes."
"…From where?"
He shrugged.
"Budget allocation."
The soldier stood perfectly still.
He pointed at the basement door.
"Guard that."
"Yes, Commander."
The soldier moved instantly.
Professional.
Silent.
Mira looked at him in horror.
"You just created a private army."
He shook his head.
"Correction."
He looked out the window at the zombie-filled streets.
"I just started one."
The system displayed:
Structure Security: 85%Establish Outpost Alpha?
He stared at the glowing prompt.
He looked around the battered apartment building.
The cleared floors.
The armed soldier.
The burning hive below.
The abandoned city outside.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Alright."
He pressed confirm.
The screen flashed.
Outpost Alpha Established.Territory Claimed: Building Block 4-17Stormhold Initiated.
Outside, the wind shifted.
Ash from the burning hive rose into the gray sky.
Mira looked at him.
"…What did you just do?"
He smiled faintly.
"Administrative paperwork."
The soldier stood guard.
The building quiet.
For now.
He looked out at the endless red-zone city.
"…Let's increase market share."
The system chimed softly.
Welcome to Command Level 1.
He nodded.
"Good."
He picked up the baton again.
"We're going shopping."