The silence after the countdown felt wrong.
Not peaceful—wrong. Like the moment between lightning and thunder, when you know something devastating is coming but can't predict exactly what.
Dr. Mills sat heavily on one of the makeshift chairs, pressing a fresh bandage to the gash on her arm. The bite wound from earlier had stopped bleeding, but new cuts from the surge creatures painted her in a patchwork of red.
"Status report," she said, falling back on military structure to center herself. "Everyone accounted for?"
Lisa nodded, checking her supplies. "Minor injuries all around, but nothing life-threatening. The antibiotics are helping with your bite, Dr. Mills. No signs of infection."
"Which confirms our immunity theory," Mills replied. "Classes protect against the transformation, but not physical damage."
I pulled up my stat screen, the blue glow illuminating my face. Ten stat points from reaching level 5. The numbers felt more significant now—each point could mean the difference between life and death.
Nathaniel Moretti Level: 5 Main Class: Astral Equationist (★★★★★)
Stats: STR: 12 AGI: 11 CI: 22 CON: 12 INT: 17
Available Points: 10
"I need to allocate these," I said, considering my options carefully.
After the surge battle, the importance of each stat had become crystal clear. Intelligence helped me process the complex equations faster. Cosmic Insight let me see and manipulate reality's code with less resistance. But I also couldn't ignore my physical limitations.
I distributed the points methodically: 4 to Cosmic Insight, 3 to Intelligence, 2 to Constitution, 1 to Agility.
The moment I confirmed the allocation, the world shifted. Not visually, but in terms of what I could perceive. The lunar energy patterns around us became clearer, more detailed. I could see the faint traces of enhanced zombie signatures still lingering in the building's structure.
Aurora was doing the same, her own screen casting silver light across her features.
"Your new ability," Dr. Mills said to Aurora. "Can you control it consciously?"
Aurora extended her hand, concentrating. Silver energy began to coalesce around her fingers, not forming into a sword this time, but creating a small orb of pure lunar light.
"Lunar Aura," she said, watching the energy dance between her fingers. "It's like... having direct access to the power source instead of just one pre-made tool."
She shaped the energy into a thin barrier, then a small projectile, then back into the familiar sword form. The versatility was impressive.
"That could be incredibly useful," Marcus observed. "Adaptive weapons, defensive barriers, probably more applications we haven't thought of."
"And your density manipulation?" Mills asked me.
I focused on a small piece of debris on the floor. Through my enhanced perception, I could see its molecular structure clearly now. I reached out with my ability, not changing gravity this time, but altering the material's density itself.
The concrete fragment became lighter than air, floating upward like a helium balloon. Then I reversed the effect, making it so dense it crashed through the floor tile.
"Matter manipulation," I said. "I can make things lighter, heavier, change their physical properties by rewriting their molecular code."
Mills nodded approvingly. "Complementary abilities. Aurora handles direct combat and defense, Nate provides tactical reality manipulation. Good force multiplication."
Marcus cleared his throat. "Speaking of intelligence gathering, we should check the radio again. With main power restored, I might be able to boost the signal, get clearer reception."
He was right. We needed information about what was happening beyond our small corner of the campus.
The radio in the maintenance room had better equipment now that Marcus had the building's full power grid online. He spent several minutes adjusting settings, rerouting power to the antenna system.
"There," he said. "Much stronger signal now."
Static filled the air initially, then voices began to emerge with startling clarity.
"—checkpoint seven has fallen, repeat, checkpoint seven overrun—"
"—civilian evacuation proceeding from Queens sector twelve—"
"—negative contact with Manhattan command for six hours—"
Aurora leaned forward intently. "Queens sector twelve. That's near my grandmother's neighborhood."
I adjusted the frequency, hunting for more specific information about the area.
"—secured perimeter established around residential grid 47-Delta—"
"—elderly woman, Sofia Reyes, confirming her compound remains defensible—"
Aurora's eyes widened. "That's her. That's my grandmother."
Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the radio microphone. "Grandmother? Sofia Reyes? This is Aurora, can you hear me?"
Static. Then, faintly, an older woman's voice with a slight accent.
"Aurora? Mija, is that really you?"
The relief in Aurora's voice was palpable. "Abuela, yes, it's me. Are you safe? Is Carmen with you?"
"Your sister arrived this morning. Scared, but unharmed. The house is secure—those things cannot get through my walls."
I could see tears forming in Aurora's eyes, the first time she'd allowed herself to show vulnerability since the nightmare began.
"We're trying to reach you," Aurora said. "But the city is... it's bad here, Abuela."
"I know, mija. The radio brings terrible news. But my home is prepared. Food, water, weapons. We can wait for you."
A new voice cut into the transmission—younger, frantic.
"Aurora? Aurora, is that you?"
"Carmen!" Aurora pressed closer to the radio. "Are you hurt? How did you get there?"
"The subway stopped working, so I walked. Took me all night, but I made it. Aurora, what's happening? People are... changing. And there are soldiers everywhere, but they're losing."
"Stay with Abuela," Aurora said firmly. "Don't leave the house for any reason. We're coming to you."
"When?"
Aurora looked at Dr. Mills, who held up a hand indicating patience.
"Soon," Aurora said. "A few days at most. The situation here is stabilizing."
It wasn't entirely true, but no point in causing more panic.
"I love you both," Aurora added. "Stay safe."
The transmission faded back to static, but Aurora remained by the radio, wiping her eyes.
"They're alive," she said quietly. "They're safe."
"And we have a destination," Dr. Mills added. "A fortified position with supplies and family. Good operational objective."
Marcus continued scanning frequencies, gathering intelligence about the broader situation.
"—safe zones established in Albany, Buffalo, Syracuse—"
"—Manhattan quarantine zone maintained, no entry or exit—"
"—Enhanced variants showing increased organization patterns—"
"Wait," I said. "Go back to that last one."
Marcus found the frequency again.
"—library complex reports contact with armored variant, designation Stonehide. Standard ammunition ineffective. Requesting heavy weapons support—"
"—negative on heavy weapons, maintain distance and observe—"
"—additional reports of acidic variants in adjacent buildings—"
Aurora and I exchanged glances. The library was only two buildings away from us.
"Enhanced variants that didn't revert from the surge," Dr. Mills observed. "They're still out there, and they're organized."
"The armored ones we fought," I said. "Some of them must have been permanent evolutions, not temporary enhancements."
Marcus pulled up his building schematics on the tablet. "If there are enhanced zombies in the library, and they're organized, they might be coordinating with others in the area."
"Including here," Aurora finished.
Lisa had been quietly tending to wounds, but now she looked up with concern. "How many of them could there be?"
"Unknown," Dr. Mills replied. "But we have to assume we're not the only ones who got stronger during the surge. Some of them did too."
I was about to respond when a sound echoed through the lecture hall that made everyone freeze.
A soft hissing noise. Like air leaking from a tire, but wrong somehow. Too organic.
Then I smelled it. A sharp, acrid odor that made my eyes water.
"Chemical smell," Lisa said, covering her nose. "Like... acid?"
We all turned toward the source of the sound. One of the concrete walls near the back of the room showed dark stains spreading outward from several small holes.
The holes were perfectly round. Melted, not drilled.
As we watched, more acid dripped through the openings, eating away at the concrete with steady precision.
"Something's on the other side," Marcus whispered. "Something that can melt through walls."
Aurora's sword materialized in her hand. "The radio mentioned acidic variants."
The hissing grew louder. More holes appeared in the wall, arranged in a deliberate pattern. Whatever was creating them was working methodically, systematically weakening the barrier between us and it.
"It's testing the wall's thickness," Dr. Mills observed. "Learning the structure before making a larger breach."
"Intelligent," I said, feeling my quill trying to materialize unbidden. "Just like the armored ones we fought."
The pattern of holes suddenly connected. A section of wall dissolved entirely, creating an opening large enough for something human-sized to pass through.
But nothing came through immediately. Instead, we heard a sound that raised every hair on my body.
Breathing. Controlled, deliberate breathing from something that was deciding when and how to attack.
"Positions," Dr. Mills commanded quietly. "It's coming."
Aurora moved to the front, sword ready, her new lunar aura beginning to shimmer around her like a defensive field.
I raised my hand, ready to manipulate gravity or density as needed.
Marcus gripped his wrench, staying near the equipment.
Lisa moved to the back with the medical supplies, ready to treat injuries.
The breathing stopped.
Then, in the sudden silence, we heard something far worse than breathing.
A wet, rhythmic sound. Like something large and soft moving through the acid-melted opening.
Something was coming through the wall.
And it was taking its time.