Back at the compound—
Things had already fallen apart.
What was once controlled space—training grounds, walkways, reinforced structures—had turned into something else entirely.
The outer perimeter had been breached in multiple places, sections of fencing torn down or bent inward where bodies had forced their way through in sheer volume.
Now—
They were inside.
Infected flooded the grounds in scattered waves, not organized, not coordinated—but relentless. Some sprinted across open paths, feet slamming against concrete—
Others vaulted over barriers or crashed through doors that hadn't been sealed in time—
Blood painted the space in streaks and pools, dragged across surfaces by movement, smeared underfoot as both the living and the infected crossed over it again and again.
And still—
People fought.
Near one of the inner walkways, a student slammed both hands forward, a compressed burst of air erupting outward from his palms—
WHUMP—!
