Chapter 3: The Dead Don’t Die
Kael took aim, his grip steady despite the chaos unfolding before him. The first shot rang out, a single burst from his Morph-Gear's rifle mode. The bullet tore through the forehead of the nearest zombie, splattering blackened gore against the ruined stone wall behind it. The creature crumpled instantly, but the others kept coming, their groans growing louder as they shambled toward him.
"Headshots," Kael muttered. "Classic zombie rule applies."
His exo-suit's systems were still stabilizing, and his HUD flickered erratically. Power levels were at 62%, meaning he had to conserve energy. His adaptive shielding was offline, his mobility functions reduced. He couldn't rely on brute force alone.
Kael sidestepped as a zombie lunged, its filthy claws swiping at empty air. He slammed his armored boot into its chest, sending it crashing into two others behind it. Another quick burst of gunfire—three precise shots, three corpses hitting the dirt.
More were coming. Too many.
Kael activated his infrared scanner. At least thirty hostiles were within a hundred meters, drawn by the noise. He cursed under his breath. If he stayed in the open, he'd be overwhelmed.
"Time to reposition."
He sprinted toward a half-collapsed building, his servos hissing as he vaulted onto a ledge. From this elevated position, he could funnel the undead into a bottleneck. His Morph-Gear shifted into sniper mode with a smooth mechanical click.
A deep breath.
A single shot.
One zombie's skull exploded. Another bullet, another clean kill. But even as he thinned their numbers, more poured in from the alleys and broken houses. He needed an exit strategy.
Kael glanced up—his visor detected the remnants of a wooden bridge connecting two rooftops. If he could get across, he might find a defensible position.
He leapt, his enhanced legs propelling him onto the bridge. It creaked under his weight, dangerously unstable. He dashed across just as the wood splintered, collapsing behind him and cutting off the horde below.
For a brief moment, Kael allowed himself to breathe. He surveyed the area, taking in the medieval architecture, the eerie mist swirling in the streets, and the twisted bodies of the undead wandering aimlessly. This wasn't just a battlefield—it was a nightmare.
His HUD pinged—a new reading. Not a zombie. Something else.
A figure stood at the far end of the rooftop, partially concealed by shadows. A person.
Kael's rifle snapped up instantly. "Identify yourself."
The figure hesitated before stepping forward—a young woman, clad in ragged but sturdy armor, her face smeared with dirt and blood. She held a sword, but she didn't raise it. Instead, she looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"You… you are not of this world," she whispered.
Kael narrowed his eyes behind his visor. This confirmed one thing—he wasn't alone.
"Yeah," he said, lowering his rifle slightly but keeping his stance ready. "And I need answers."
Before she could respond, a monstrous roar echoed through the city. Kael's scanner flared with warnings. A massive entity was approaching.
The dead weren't the only threat in this world.