Reborn With Infinite Supplies System in Apocalypse

Chapter 5 - Girls’ Campus: Sealed

The lock engaged with a sound Aarohi had never heard before.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was a flat, final click that echoed through the courtyard and settled deep in her chest, heavy and wrong. The tall iron gates slid shut inch by inch, slow enough for hope to flicker—and then die—before the last gap vanished.

Someone screamed.

Aarohi turned instinctively, heart slamming against her ribs. Girls surged toward the gate, hands slapping metal, voices overlapping in panic and disbelief. The security system lights along the fence flickered from green to red, bathing the campus in a warning glow.

“No, no, no—open it!”

“Why is it locking now?”

“My brother is outside!”

Aarohi stood frozen for a second longer than she should have. Her phone was clenched in her hand, screen lit with half-written messages she hadn’t sent yet. She had been walking back from class when the sirens started. She had laughed, just like everyone else. A drill. Always drills.

Then the screaming started beyond the campus walls.

Now the gates were closed.

“Everyone, please step back from the entrance!” a female staff member shouted, her voice cracking despite the megaphone. “This is a safety protocol. Please remain calm.”

Remain calm.

The words bounced uselessly off the rising hysteria.

Aarohi forced herself to move. Standing still made her feel like prey. She backed away from the gate and climbed the short steps toward the central fountain, turning slowly to take everything in.

The girls’ campus was large, enclosed, and designed to feel safe. Dormitories on three sides. Lecture halls on the fourth. High walls reinforced with fencing. Normally, it felt comforting. Sheltered.

Now it felt like a cage.

Groups were already forming—friends clinging together, strangers drawn by fear alone. Some girls were crying openly. Others stood unnaturally still, eyes glassy, processing too much too fast. A few were filming, hands shaking, narrating into their phones as if documenting the moment might somehow protect them.

Aarohi swallowed and lifted her chin.

She was used to eyes on her. She had learned long ago how to stand when people watched—how to look composed even when her stomach twisted. Campus beauty, they called her. As if that meant she was immune to fear.

It wasn’t true.

She moved through the crowd, gathering fragments of conversation.

“They’re saying it’s violent.”

“My mom isn’t answering.”

“The main road is blocked—someone sent a video.”

A girl shoved past her, sobbing. Aarohi caught her arm without thinking. “Hey—wait. What did you see?”

The girl shook her head frantically. “The boys’ dorms—my cousin is there. He called me. He said people were attacking each other. Biting. Like animals.”

Biting.

The word scraped against Aarohi’s thoughts.

She released the girl gently and stepped back. Her phone buzzed in her hand, finally lighting up with incoming messages. Group chats exploded faster than she could read.

Videos loaded and froze. Voices screamed in the background. Someone dropped their phone while running. Another clip ended abruptly, mid-shout, the image tilting sideways before going black.

Her chest tightened.

This wasn’t a riot. This wasn’t some isolated incident.

This was everywhere.

A loud metallic clang rang out from the gate again as something slammed into it from the outside. Girls shrieked and scattered, pressing back toward the buildings. Aarohi’s breath came shallow as she stared at the gate, half-expecting it to give way.

It held.

For now.

“Listen!” someone shouted from near the administration steps. “They’re locking all the entrances. The announcement says the campus is sealed until further notice!”

Sealed.

The word settled over the crowd like ash.

Aarohi climbed onto the low stone edge of the fountain so she could see over the heads around her. Her legs trembled, but she stayed upright. Panic was contagious. Someone had to stay anchored, even if she didn’t feel anchored at all.

“What about supplies?” someone yelled. “Food? Water?”

No one answered.

She scanned the faces—recognising some, not others. The ice-cold beauty from the law department stood stiffly near the library steps, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the fear around her. The rich girl everyone whispered about was arguing furiously into her phone, demanding something, anything. An arrogant senior glared at the locked gate, as it had personally insulted her.

Six hundred girls.

No exits.

Aarohi’s phone buzzed again.

This time, it was her younger cousin. Boys’ zone.

She answered instantly. “Ravi?”

Static crackled on the line. Heavy breathing. “Didi,” he gasped. “They’re—something’s wrong. People are—”

A scream tore through the speaker, so loud that Aarohi flinched.

“Ravi?” she said urgently. “Ravi, listen to me. Where are you?”

“I’m in the common room,” he said, voice shaking. “The doors—someone locked them. There’s blood. They bit—”

The line cut.

“No,” she whispered, staring at the dark screen. “No, no, no.”

Around her, phones were going silent one by one.

Girls noticed. Murmurs turned into cries.

“My call dropped.”

“Mine too.”

“They’re not answering anymore.”

Aarohi looked toward the distant buildings beyond the campus walls—the boys’ zones she could no longer see clearly. Smoke rose faintly in the distance. Sirens that had been constant just minutes ago began to falter, one by one, until only a single, distant wail remained.

Then that too stopped.

The sudden quiet was worse than the noise.

It felt like the world was holding its breath before drowning.

Aarohi stepped down from the fountain, knees weak. Her fingers curled tightly around her phone as if she could force it to ring through sheer will.

Somewhere beyond the walls, a final scream echoed—cut short so abruptly it felt like a knife slicing through the air.

Silence followed.

Absolute. Unforgiving.

Aarohi lifted her head slowly, fear crystallising into something colder.

The girls’ campus was sealed.

And whatever was happening outside had already won.