The Attack

Ethan Cross stood calmly in the hallway, addressing the crowd gathered before him.

"There's barely anything left out there," he said. "I hit every supermarket and shopping center I could think of nearby."

"Everything was stripped clean."

"But I didn't give up. I knew you were all counting on me. So I kept going, digging through every corner of Bayview City until I finally found something."

He handed the two large duffel bags to Uncle Ray, then headed upstairs to fetch Dr. Chloe. Together, they walked down to meet the others.

Ethan finally sent the message in the group chat:"Supplies are here. Come down."

Within minutes, the building was alive with noise.

Dozens of residents crowded the staircase, layer by layer, all eyes locked on the bags in front of Ethan. Thin faces. Hollow eyes. Greedy stares.

Some people were even eyeing the bags like they might lunge at any second.

But then they saw the thick, dark iron bar in Ethan's hand—and thought better of it.

Ethan narrowed his eyes and smiled.

"Took a lot of work to get these, you know."

He nodded to Dr. Chloe, who unzipped the duffel bags and dumped the contents onto the floor.

SHHHHHHLAP!

Out poured piles of food—vegetables, frozen meat, bread, biscuits.

It all looked terrible. Stale. Frostbitten. Moldy in some places.

But to the starving crowd?

It was a banquet.

Uncle Ray raised a fist and roared:

"Long live Ethan Cross!"

The crowd caught on instantly.

"Long live Ethan Cross!"

"You're our hero, Ethan!"

"Big bro! From now on, you're my blood brother!"

If Ethan had told them to crawl on all fours and bark, they'd probably have done it without hesitation.

That's how powerful hunger was.

From the back, two messy-haired women shoved their way forward—Claire and Natalie.

Both looked terrible—greasy hair, sunken cheeks, barely recognizable.

Claire waved her hand eagerly.

"Ethan! Ethan, it's me—Claire!"

In her mind, Ethan still loved her. Even with Dr. Chloe by his side, he must still hold a torch for her. Surely she'd get a bigger portion.

Natalie clung to her desperately.

"Claire, we're best friends! Help me ask Ethan for extra, okay?"

Claire gave her a disgusted look and shoved her away.

"Get lost, you leech."

The commotion made Ethan frown.

Someone shouted:

"Shut up and listen to Ethan!"

The crowd turned, eyes full of fire. Claire and Natalie shrank back instantly.

Claire muttered, > "You don't know what Ethan and I had..."

Ethan ignored them. His voice dropped.

"I nearly died bringing this back. I planned to share it."

Then his tone turned ice cold.

"But this isn't charity. You want to eat? Then pick up a weapon."

"Anyone who dares freeload—I'll make them cough up what they ate and then some."

He placed a hand on his gun. The message was clear.

Everyone nodded, eyes wide, hearts pounding.

"Good. Let's divide the supplies."

He stepped forward to begin calling names.

That's when it happened.

Two arms burst in through a window.

Four men leapt in—Terra Gang thugs.

Their eyes locked on the food like starving wolves.

"Jackpot! So much food!"

"Screw it! Grab everything!"

They didn't care that dozens of people were present. They were armed—knives, wrenches, rebar—and they charged straight at Ethan.

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

He reached for his pistol—but then stopped.

He took a step back and shouted:

"This food is yours! Are you really going to let them take it?"

"Whoever kills one of them gets food for five!"

That changed everything.

The residents, who'd been ready to scatter, froze.

He was right.

This was their food.

Without it, they'd die anyway.

And now? Now they had a reason to fight.

Someone let out a war cry, pulled a crowbar from under their coat, and rushed forward.

More followed.

In this world, no one left home unarmed anymore.

Ethan stayed at the back, pistol drawn—not to shoot, but to guard the food.

The four gang members had expected sheep. Instead, they got wolves.

A full-blown riot erupted.

Weapons clanged. Men screamed. The narrow hallway echoed with the sound of metal on flesh.

People didn't even feel pain anymore—not in this cold. Not in this rage.

They just swung.

And bled.

And screamed.

Uncle Ray was in the middle of it all, iron rod in hand, roaring as he smashed down.

The Terra Gang might've been fearless—but they weren't invincible.

One by one, they went down.

The fury was real. The fear was gone.

The survivors of Crestview Heights had found something new—anger.

After weeks of being hunted, harassed, humiliated, they'd finally struck back.

When it was over, six bodies lay on the floor.

Four gang members. Two residents.

Dr. Chloe frowned as she stepped forward.

She could tell—those two neighbors might have been savable.

If they had an OR. Blood bags. Antibiotics.

But in this world?

Forget it.

She sighed.

"So this is the new world…"