The hallway was silent except for the steady drip of water from a broken pipe. Wilson stood frozen, his hand pressed against the cold door that had just slammed shut in his face.“Katie?” His voice came out rough, like sand scraping against metal. “Katie, open the door!”He knocked again, harder this time. The sound echoed through the narrow corridor, bouncing off the cracked walls. No answer. Only the quiet hum of the flickering ceiling light and the faint creak of something shifting in the shadows behind him.He swallowed hard. “Katie, please. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Just… talk to me.”Still nothing.The door remained still, the silence heavy. For a moment, Wilson thought he could hear her footsteps retreating, soft, uneven, and distant. Then came the unmistakable sound of a bolt sliding into place. Locked. His heart dropped into his stomach.He pressed his forehead to the door, his breath fogging against the wood. “Don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice shaking

Wilson opened his eyes slowly. For a moment, he couldn’t move. His head felt heavy, his body sore, and the smell of burned metal filled his nose. Sparks still danced around him from torn wires, blue and wild like angry snakes. He blinked several times. “I’m… alive?”The memory rushed back, the crash, the light, the pain, and then nothing. He pushed himself off the floor, groaning as his muscles protested. Around him, the room was dark except for the faint flicker of damaged bulbs and the hum of electric current.His eyes caught a sign above one of the power boxes. “1 MEGAWATT: HIGH VOLTAGE.”Wilson froze. “One… megawatt?” he whispered. “There’s no way I should still be alive.”He looked down at his trembling hands. His fingertips were blackened slightly, but his skin wasn’t burned. No blood. No wounds. Just a strange warmth spreading through his veins.The axe was still beside him, its blade reflecting the dim light. He picked it up, the wooden handle familiar and comforting in his

The hallway stretched ahead, dim and cold, filled with the smell of dust and faint rot. Wilson took a deep breath and looked at the woman walking beside him. For the first time since everything went wrong, he didn’t feel completely alone. He had met Sophia only a few minutes ago, but somehow it already felt like they’d known each other longer. She carried a small boy, Kevin, in her arms. The boy’s head rested on her shoulder, his small fingers gripping her jacket tightly.Wilson smiled faintly. “At least I’m not talking to myself anymore.”“Now,” he said, trying to sound calm, “since we’re already on the fifth floor, that means we have a good chance of getting out of here. We just need to be careful. No slip-ups. And hopefully,” he looked at her, “we won’t find zombies flooding the next floor.”Sophia nodded, her face calm though her hands trembled slightly. “All we have to do is follow you,” she said. “As long as we keep moving and don’t make too much noise, we’ll be fine.”Her voi

It took Wilson nearly an hour to clear the fourth floor. His axe swung again and again, slicing through rotten flesh and splattering walls with dark stains. His breath came out in short gasps, and sweat dripped down his face. Yet, unlike before, his arms didn’t ache as much, and his movements were faster, sharper, almost too natural.He leaned against a wall, looking over the hallway covered in bodies. “They’re… weaker,” he muttered, panting. Then he frowned. “No… I’m just getting stronger.”That thought made him pause. Stronger, yes, but how far could it go? The System inside him seemed to grow with every fight, but he had no idea where it would stop.He looked toward the stairwell leading up. The air there was still and heavy. The higher floors had always been quiet, too quiet. “If I can move faster now,” he whispered, gripping his axe, “then I’ll check the offices on the seventh floor. Maybe someone’s still alive.”The thought of survivors filled him with a strange hope, but also