System Activation

Mark's vision swam as concrete solidified beneath his sneakers. The rooftop's familiar graffiti—*JASON + AMY 4EVA*—reappeared, but something was wrong. His left hand burned. The golden ring clung to his finger like a leech, its surface blistering hot. Ten feet away, a section of roofing tiles smoldered in a perfect circle, reduced to ash as fine as cremated bone.

*Did I… teleport?*

A metallic tang flooded his mouth—the same taste he'd had after Kelly kissed him goodbye last month. Her mother's chauffeur had watched from the idling Mercedes, timing their 90-second farewell. *"You'll understand when you're older,"* Mrs. Whitaker had said, rolling up the partition window as Kelly silently cried.

**THUD.**

Snowflakes struck Mark's cheeks. He blinked at the sky—a roiling gray mass devouring the Chicago horizon. Weather radar hadn't predicted this. Students below screamed as the temperature plummeted 40 degrees in seconds, their breath becoming visible mid-laugh.

"What the hell?" Mark stumbled toward the stairwell, ribs aching from the goblin's bite that no longer existed.

Third-floor hallway.

Chaos.

Freshman Ellie Kim hyperventilated against a locker, her *BTS* keychain rattling. "I can't—can't breathe—"

The air thickened. Mark's lungs labored like he'd sprinted a mile. A sophomore collapsed face-first, textbooks spilling. Then another. And another.

*Not air.*

He pressed his hoodie sleeve over his nose too late. Darkness swallowed him.

---

**Consciousness returned** to the stench of vomit and urine.

"Uhhh… my head…" Mark groaned. Around him, students stirred like sleepwalkers. The digital clock above Mr. O'Donnell's room read 3:17 PM.

**[Earth Integration: 00:05:00]**

The words burned across his vision like afterimages from a camera flash.

*CRASH!*

The roof access door exploded inward. Men in black tactical gear poured through—no insignias, rifles modified with strange canisters. They moved with robotic efficiency, clearing classrooms.

"Secondary target located," barked a soldier through his headset. "Room 306."

*Kelly's homeroom.*

Mark ran. "Kelly!"

She stood frozen beside her overturned desk, AP Bio textbook still open to a chapter on viral replication. Her cashmere scarf—the one he'd saved six months to buy—lay trampled under combat boots.

"Mark, what's—"

A rifle butt cracked his jaw. He hit the floor tasting blood. Through blurred vision, he saw Kelly clawing at a soldier's arm. "Let me go! MARK!"

The helicopter rose through swirling snow as he reached the courtyard. Kelly pressed her palm against the chopper's window—their old signal for *I'm scared*. Then she was gone.

**[Integration Complete]**

A sound like a million bones snapping.

Twenty students dropped. Ellie Kim convulsed violently, her designer sneakers squeaking against linoleum. Her boyfriend Tyler knelt, Jordans slipping in vomit. "Babe? Talk to—"

Ellie's jaws unhinged with a wet *pop*. She lunged. Tyler's scream ended in a gurgle as she tore out his carotid.

**They weren't zombies.**

Not the shambling corpses from movies. These moved with insectile precision, joints bending backward, pupils swallowed by milky cataracts. A junior quarterback charged one, only to collapse seconds later, skin bubbling with black veins.

*They're evolving.*

Mark staggered into the boys' restroom. His reflection showed a split lip and wild eyes. The janitor's closet yielded a push broom—hickory shaft, steel bracket.

*Snap.*

He jammed the broken end against a sink until the metal bent. Not a spear. A stake.

The first infected was Trevor Moss—honors student, future valedictorian. Now his left eye hung by the optic nerve, fingers clicking like a spider testing its web.

Mark's thrust went wide. The stake skidded off Trevor's collarbone.

*Too high.*

A fingernail grazed his neck.

*Mom's face flashed behind his eyelids—wired to dialysis machines, defenseless.*

He tackled Trevor, knees slamming ribs. The stake plunged through an eye socket.

*Once.*

Brain matter oozed like spoiled oatmeal.

*Twice.*

Trevor kept twitching.

*Three times.*

[You have reached level 1 and gained 5 free status points.]

[You have killed level 1 Zombie.]

[You have gained +2 Stamina.]

[Say "System" to see your status.]

**[Level Up: Vitality +1 | Strength +1 | Perception +1]**

Level: 1

Name: Mark Craney

System: G.O.D

Strength: 9+

Agility: 10+

Stamina: 11/11+

Mana: 50/50+

Magic: 80

Health: 10/10+

Vitality: 9/9+

Perception: 5

Skill: None

Status Points: 5

Seeing the Plus sign beside the status points so he add everything in Strenght and he suddenly felt his bone, flesh and muscle becoming stronger.

Mark vomited acid bile. His hands shook—not from fear, but something worse.

*Relief.*

The fight had been easier than expected.

Beneath Trevor's body lay a yellowed scroll tied with sinew.