The wet sliding sound grew closer. Something large squeezed through the acid-melted opening with deliberate precision.
I raised my hand, feeling the quill materialize between my fingers. Through enhanced perception, reality fractured to reveal the creature's form approaching through the dissolving concrete.
This wasn't like the surge variants. Where those had been chaotic evolutions, this thing showed purpose. Design.
It flowed into our makeshift sanctuary like liquid death.
The acidic variant—what the military had called a Spitter—stood seven feet tall. Its human origins were still recognizable, but wrong. The torso had elongated, ribs visible through translucent skin that pulsed with chemical reactions.
Most disturbing were the modifications. Glands bulged along its neck and shoulders, producing the acid that had melted through our wall. Its mouth had split wider, jaw unhinged to accommodate new organs that dripped caustic fluid.
"Positions!" Dr. Mills commanded.
Aurora stepped forward, lunar aura shimmering around her like protective fire. Her sword materialized with urgent brightness.
The Spitter's head tilted, studying us with intelligence that shouldn't exist in the undead. Its eyes glowed with familiar silver light, but there was calculation behind them now.
It opened its mouth. Not to bite, but to speak.
"New specimens," it hissed, voice distorted by the chemical changes to its throat. "Enhanced. Valuable."
My blood froze. These things could talk now.
"It's learning from us," I said, gripping my quill tighter. "Cataloging our abilities."
The Spitter's glands contracted. It spat.
Aurora threw up a barrier of hardened lunar energy just as acidic saliva struck. The barrier held, but I could see it smoking where the acid made contact.
"Move!" Aurora shouted.
We scattered as the creature advanced. Its movements were fluid, predatory. Each step left smoking footprints in the floor tiles.
I focused on the gravitational fields around it, trying to pin it down. But the creature adapted immediately, spreading its weight across multiple limbs to distribute the pressure.
"Marcus, get that radio working!" Dr. Mills called out, firing controlled bursts from a pistol she'd produced from somewhere. "We need backup!"
The bullets struck the Spitter's hide and sizzled away. Its skin was saturated with acid.
Aurora darted in with her sword, aiming for the creature's neck. The blade connected, carving deep, but acidic blood sprayed everywhere. She had to retreat immediately as drops ate through her sleeve.
"Ranged attacks only!" she warned, dismissing her sword in favor of lunar energy projectiles.
I tried a different approach. Instead of manipulating gravity, I focused on density. Making the air around the creature thick as water, slowing its movements.
The Spitter pushed through, but sluggishly. Aurora's energy bolts found their mark, burning holes through its torso.
But it was learning. Adapting to our tactics even as we fought.
The creature's glands began producing different chemicals. Steam rose from its skin as it neutralized Aurora's lunar energy on contact.
"It's developing countermeasures," Dr. Mills observed, reloading with practiced efficiency.
A new sound echoed from the corridor outside. Heavy footsteps. Slow, deliberate, inexorable.
"Company," Marcus called from his position by the equipment.
Through the doorway came something that made the Spitter look fragile by comparison.
The Stonehide variant was exactly what the military reports had described. Nine feet of walking armor, its human form completely encased in keratin plates that looked thicker than tank armor.
It moved with ponderous strength, each step cracking floor tiles. Where the Spitter showed intelligence, the Stonehide radiated pure destructive power.
"Two enhanced variants," Dr. Mills said grimly. "Working together."
The Stonehide positioned itself between us and the exit while the Spitter flanked from the side. Coordinated tactics.
I realized with growing dread that we were being hunted by something far more dangerous than individual monsters. These things had developed pack intelligence.
Aurora's energy barriers wouldn't stop the Stonehide's charge. My gravity manipulation might slow it, but those armor plates would shrug off most attacks.
"New plan," I said, mind racing through possibilities. "Aurora, can your aura create sustained fields?"
"Maybe. What are you thinking?"
"Containment. I'm going to try something."
I closed my eyes, reaching deeper into my power than ever before. The quill blazed brighter, and my perception expanded to show the molecular structure of everything around us.
Not just gravity. Not just density. The fundamental forces that held matter together.
I focused on the Spitter first. Instead of changing its weight or density, I began rewriting the electromagnetic forces in its body. Making its acidic glands react with each other instead of producing stable chemicals.
The creature convulsed as its own acid began eating it from within. It collapsed, dissolving in its own caustic fluids.
Experience gained: 800
The Stonehide roared—actually roared—and charged.
Aurora threw everything she had into a lunar barrier, but the armored creature smashed through like tissue paper. It raised massive fists to crush her.
I acted on pure instinct. Reaching out with my power, I didn't target the creature itself. Instead, I rewrote the structural integrity of the floor beneath it.
Concrete suddenly had the density of foam. The Stonehide plunged through, crashing into the floor below with tremendous force.
But it wasn't dead. Already, I could hear it moving down there. Angry now.
"We need to leave," Dr. Mills said. "More will come."
"The library," Marcus said, looking at his building schematics. "If there are survivors there—"
"Then we help them," I finished. "And maybe they have information we need."
Aurora nodded, her aura fading as she conserved energy. "Lead the way."
We gathered our supplies quickly. The radio crackled with new transmissions as we prepared to move.
"—requesting immediate extraction from library complex—"
"—multiple enhanced variants, coordinated attack patterns—"
"—this is Professor Chen, we're trapped on the third floor—"
I grabbed the microphone. "Professor Chen, this is a rescue team. We're coming to you."
"Who is this?" The voice was older, academic, strained with fatigue.
"Students and faculty. We have enhanced individuals with combat capabilities."
"Enhanced? You mean the class system?"
"Yes. Hold your position. We'll be there in ten minutes."
As we left the lecture hall, I could hear the Stonehide smashing its way back up through the floor. But we had a head start.
The journey to the library was a nightmare of careful movement and sudden violence. Enhanced zombies were everywhere now, not just wandering randomly but patrolling in patterns.
We encountered three more variants on the way. A fast one with elongated limbs that moved like a spider. An obese one that had developed explosive capabilities. Another acidic type that tried to corner us in a stairwell.
Each fight was harder than basic zombies, but we were learning too. Aurora discovered she could shape her lunar aura into tools—grappling hooks, projectile weapons, even temporary flight. I experimented with matter manipulation, turning walls to quicksand or making weapons from pure compressed air.
Experience gained: 450 Experience gained: 320 Experience gained: 670
Level up! You are now level 6.
By the time we reached the library, I felt fundamentally changed. Not just the stats, but my understanding of what was possible. My quill wasn't just a tool—it was a key to rewriting reality itself.
The library was under siege. Through the windows, we could see barricades on the third floor. Enhanced zombies circled the building like sharks.
"There," Aurora pointed to a service entrance. "We can get in through the basement."
But as we approached, a new sound made us all freeze.
A howl. Deep, resonant, carrying across the entire campus. It echoed from building to building, growing louder as more voices joined it.
The enhanced zombies stopped their patrol patterns. All of them, simultaneously, turned toward the sound.
Then they began moving. Not randomly, not in small groups, but as a coordinated army. Hundreds of them, flowing between buildings with unified purpose.
"What the hell is that?" Marcus whispered.
Dr. Mills' face had gone pale. "That's not random behavior. That's command structure."
The howl came again, closer this time. And with it, the ground began to shake.