One path.

The air crackled with tension, engines roaring into the morning darkness, smoke billowing from the twenty exhaust pipes, polluting the atmosphere. The armored personnel carriers (APCs) stood in formation, their hulking metal bodies exuding power and finality. Yet, contrary to the bustling energy of the vehicles, the students moved like specters of the dead. Their steps were slow, dragged down by invisible chains of fear, grief, and uncertainty. Some wore lifeless expressions; others struggled to suppress their indignation behind the numbing shock of a friend's loss. And worse—the fear of the unknown loomed ahead, waiting beyond the institution's gates.

Was this real? Was it truly happening?

Those questions haunted every student being herded toward the front gates, carrying nothing but the small backpacks the institution had provided—bags that supposedly contained all they would need for survival. And it was all because of the institution.

"Hurry! Go, now!" Bianca's voice tore through the tense silence, no—screamed, hysterical and jarring.

Students around her turned, startled by her outburst.

"What's going on?"

"Why is she screaming like that? It's too early for this."

"I've already used up my energy for the day. Someone wake me up from this nightmare… and make her shut up."

Murmurs spread, their eyes filled with annoyance and exhaustion as they glared at her. But Bianca didn't care. She had bigger problems than their judgment. She yanked at the collar of a trembling girl in front of her, who stammered weakly in protest.

"B-But, Bianca… the professors said we can't go back to our dorms," the girl quivered, her hands clammy and cold as she fought against Bianca's grip.

"I don't care. You must go back in there!" Bianca shrieked, her voice rising to an almost animalistic desperation.

"But they said everything we need is in these backpacks…" The girl's voice wavered as she tried to reason with Bianca, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Professor Zane had been clear—explicitly clear.

"There's only one path from this point onward: to the front gates, onto the military transport, and into the ZOs. If anyone dares to go back to the dorms to hide or whatever, we will not show any mercy."

The girl swallowed hard, recalling the professor's chilling words. No one knew what awaited those who disobeyed, but she wasn't about to be the one to find out.

Bianca's eyes burned with frustration. "Are you refusing me? Did you forget how you got into medical school? It was thanks to me! Your mother told you to be my lackey as repayment for my generosity, and now this is how you repay me—when we're facing a life-and-death situation?"

The girl's lips parted in horror. "But this isn't life and death! You just want your skincare products!" The words left her mouth before she could stop them. A second later, she bit her lip, realizing her mistake.

Bianca's expression twisted into fury. "What did you just say? I dare you to repeat that."

The girl averted her gaze, but Bianca wasn't done. "Those products are worth more than you could ever imagine! I'm not leaving them behind. You're going to get them for me."

With that, Bianca yanked her forward.

"No—let go!" The girl struggled. She had once believed Bianca was a good person, someone who had helped her when she had nowhere to stay. But now? Now, she saw the truth.

The other students merely watched, drained and detached. They had no strength for this nonsense. Besides, some were curious—what would happen if someone dared to cross the forbidden line?

So, as Bianca's roommate kicked and screamed, they did nothing.

"Let go, Bianca! Let me go!"

The line.

It was right in front of them—the hand-drawn mark that Professor Zane had traced on the pavement.

"If you cross this line, the institution will show no mercy."

And with everything that had happened—the chaos, the warnings, the looming threat of the ZOs—the professors might not be bluffing.

But what could the girl do? Bianca was stronger. She jogged at 5 AM every morning, trained her arms and glutes religiously—there was no escaping her grip.

With a final, ruthless push, Bianca flung her over the line.

A collective breath hitched.

What now?

Up above, in the professor's tearoom, they watched.

"She's going to die," Professor Bailey muttered, watching the scene unfold below.

Professor Zane remained quiet, sipping her tea.

"I warned them. It's out of our hands now. Just like their lives are." Her voice was solemn.

To secure those twenty military vehicles, the institution had signed away power to the military. Now, as doctors and professors, they risked being deployed to an outbreak site because of these foolish students. Why couldn't they just listen?

"Why did they have to prove that jerk's words to be true?" Zane muttered under her breath.

Bailey chuckled. "Commander Killian? You think he's a jerk just because he refused to bow to us? That's hypocritical, Miss Zane."

Zane scoffed, placing her cup down. "Oh, shut up. Don't act like you don't enjoy staying above the rest. If not for that power, we would've fallen like the other medical universities."

But just as she lifted her cup again, she froze.

A surprising scene unfolded below.

Ella had stepped in at the last moment, grabbing the girl Bianca had thrown over.

A gasp rippled through the watching students.

" are you okay?" Ella asked the girl who was about to fall face down.

Ella had pulled her back and the girl nodded vigorously, " thank you." She choked—but.

Her hand had landed on the other side.

A split second passed.

Gunshots rang through the air.

The bullets were unseen, their trajectory impossible to follow, but they struck true.

A scream of anguish shattered the dawn as a bullet tore through the girl's arm.

She collapsed, her wails filling the air, raw and deafening. Blood splattered onto the pavement.

Bianca took a step back, her face draining of color.

The students recoiled.

This wasn't a bluff.

Professor Zane watched, her tea forgotten.

Bailey exhaled through his nose. "And there it is."

Zane clenched her jaw. "Idiots. Every last one of them."