The ambulance screeched to a halt, its tires crunching over broken glass and gravel. The back doors swung open with a metallic groan, and Haruka was the first to hop down. Alice followed with her steady poise, while Rhea, Hana, and Jax dropped to the ground one after the other.
Ahead loomed the vault—an enormous slab of steel scarred with claw marks, half-open as if someone had tried and failed to seal it. A low, stagnant draft seeped from the gap, carrying the faint stench of rot.
"Charming," Jax muttered.
They slipped inside, their flashlights slicing through the darkness. Dust and ash floated like dying embers, disturbed by each step. Then came the sound—low growls, shuffling feet.
A half-dozen zombies turned their milky eyes toward the intruders.
Jax raised his gun, but Rhea pushed his arm down with a sharp shake of her head.
Haruka crouched near a crate, disappearing into the shadows. Alice followed, as Hana and Jax huddled close. Haruka's hand slid to his katana. Alice touched his wrist, whispering, "Are you sure?"
He nodded.
Then he moved.
Like a shadow leaping off the wall, Haruka vaulted behind the group of zombies. Steel whispered from its sheath—then heads toppled, a knee was severed, bodies collapsed. His blade painted the air with precision, finishing the last three in one sweeping slash. Five bodies fell in eerie unison.
"Damn," Jax breathed, but Hana nudged him silent.
The others hurried ahead in hushed steps while Haruka finished off the crippled straggler with a thrust through the skull.
The elevator groaned at their approach, doors grinding halfway open with a screech that echoed like a death knell.
"Fuck," Alice hissed.
"Mama, step aside." Jax grabbed the doors and wrenched them open with brute force. The team piled inside just as a zombie lunged, getting its neck caught in the closing gap.
Rhea drove a dagger through its head, kicking it back as the doors slammed shut.
"Tell me it's only that one," Hana muttered, exhaling hard.
"Fingers crossed," Alice said.
The elevator rattled downward, then lurched to a stop. The doors creaked halfway open again, and Jax forced them wide.
They stepped into a pristine medic bay, white paneled walls flickering with failing lights. Dust coated the floor, but the place was untouched—sterile, silent. Along the far end stood a glass chamber draped in pale blue wraps, humming faintly.
"Wow. Never been here before," Jax said, awe cutting through the tension.
"Starting to feel like we should've brought Mika," Hana muttered.
"There," Alice pointed. "He should be there." She hurried forward.
The glass door hissed open, steam venting. Alice set her shotgun aside and swept the wraps away.
In the center lay a boy—slim, pale, long blond hair spilling across a white bed. Tubes snaked in and out of his frail body, machines hissing with shallow beeps. His chest rose and fell in fragile rhythm.
Alice's knees hit the floor. Tears welled as she cradled his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Mama's back now. Let's go home."
The others entered, grim expressions hardening at the sight.
"Damn," Jax murmured. "Starting to see what you meant, Hana."
Alice wiped her eyes. "Rhea, you know how to unplug these?"
Rhea gave a single nod.
"Good. Jax, you'll lift him—be careful. He's fragile, hasn't eaten in days. Haruka, with me. We'll find a portable bed and straps. Hana, assist Rhea."
They moved with practiced urgency. Rhea keyed into the machines while Hana steadied trembling hands on the tubes.
"This one—left chest. Slow," Rhea instructed.
Hana twisted gently until a hiss released. The tube clicked free.
"One down. Three more," Hana muttered, sweat dampening her brow.
Haruka and Alice returned with a collapsible stretcher, leather straps dangling.
"Sit-rep," Alice demanded.
"Problem," Rhea replied. "These tubes kept him alive. We can't take the machines. He's on a timer now."
Alice froze. "…How long?"
"Maybe twelve hours."
Alice clenched her jaw, then straightened. "Plenty of time. Let's move."
By the time she turned back, Michael was already strapped down on the stretcher. Rhea slid a data chip from the console into her cloak.
"Files secured," she confirmed.
The team loaded into the elevator again. It rattled upward, but when the doors cracked open, Hana peeked through—and froze.
The hallway beyond swarmed with a horde, their growls reverberating in the shaft.
"Crap!" she hissed, slamming the doors shut before dead fists pounded against them in rage.
The elevator descended once more.
Silence pressed down on them as the machine creaked lower into the depths.
Back at the mansion…
Leo and Eda worked furiously at floating holo-screens, their fingers dancing across transparent keyboards. Nearby, Shan, Mika, and Rosemary prepared the medical bay—rolling out wires, checking monitors, and scrubbing down the bed meant for Michael.
"Mika… Mika."
She didn't respond, eyes glassy with thought.
Rosemary tapped her shoulder, snapping her back.
"Huh? Oh—sorry." Mika passed Shan a thick book.
"I asked for the vein scanner," Shan corrected gently.
Mika flushed, fumbling for the device. "Right, sorry," she said again, handing it over.
"Master," Rosemary spoke up, voice formal. "Someone is looking for you."
"Are they here already?" Shan asked.
"No. Fifteen minutes out."
"Tell them I'm busy," Shan said calmly. Rosemary bowed and slipped into the elevator.
Shan turned his gaze to Mika. "Your mind is fogged. Is something troubling you?"
Mika forced a smile. "Nope. I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."
But Shan didn't move. His stare held her, steady and unblinking. The silence pressed until Mika sighed, shoulders slumping.
"…I have a recurring dream," she admitted.
"What's it about?" Shan asked.
Mika avoided his eyes. "Mr. Shan, can I ask you something instead?"
"Of course."
"What made you choose the medical field?"
"I worked at the Aesthetic Hospital," Shan replied without hesitation. "Long before Obsidian ever existed."
He leaned closer. "Now let me ask you—why did you choose it?"
Mika buried her face in her arms. "…Guilt."
Shan tilted his head. "Guilt?"
"My dream—it's like a memory. Jax got hurt protecting me. The orphanage couldn't afford a doctor, not even a nurse."
"That's because it wasn't a dream," Leo interrupted, turning from his console. "That really happened. Jax couldn't eat or talk for a month."
"Leo," Eda hissed, dragging him back toward the screen.
"Is it true?" Shan asked softly.
Mika's silence was answer enough.
"You carry guilt for being protected," Shan said. "So you learned medicine—as repayment for something you can't repay."
Mika's voice dropped. "Right on the nail."
She looked up, eyes brimming. "You've worked in a whole hospital, sir. How do you deal with… not saving everyone?"
"I save the next person," Shan replied instantly, with a faint smile.
He touched her arm. "You're trying to predict the unpredictable. That's life. You can't stop the storm—but you can always choose who you shelter."
Leo cut in again. "You know… Jax never regretted it."
"Regretted what?" Shan asked.
"That fight. He told me he'd do it again and again. Even knowing the pain."
Mika's tears fell into her lab coat.
"And Mika," Leo added, gentler this time, "the reason Jax never accepted your apology… is because there was nothing to apologize for. He might be dumb—stupid tank-dumb—but his heart's as pure as it is big."
Eda smacked him on the back of the head.
Before Mika could answer, Eda's expression hardened. "Master—Rosemary's in trouble."
Shan's eyes narrowed. "Damn it. Evelyne?"
He shrugged into his hanfu as Eda readied his coat. "Stay here. Don't make a sound," he ordered Mika before stepping into the elevator with Eda.
---
At the Therma Base…
Hana paced in agitation while Haruka, Alice, Jax, and Rhea sat in heavy silence.
"Fuck—we're trapped," Hana muttered, gnawing her nails.
Haruka exhaled. "Alice. I have a plan. I can create a passage. Not long, but enough to get us out."
"I'm listening."
"I'll use the mask. Shield the path—"
"No." Alice's refusal snapped like a whip. Hana echoed it immediately.
"Shan said you're unstable. Your mask just evolved. You don't know what it'll do."
"Mama, I'm with Haruka," Jax said.
Alice's eyes darted to Rhea, waiting.
Rhea simply tapped her wrist. Time.
Alice groaned. "…Fine. But if Shan chews us out later, you take the blame."
"Are we really doing this?" Hana asked. "There has to be another way—"
"There isn't," Rhea cut her off, stepping into the elevator.
The doors opened into chaos. The once-clear hall now crawled with a seething horde.
Haruka vaulted out first, feet barely touching the zombies' heads as he sprinted across their writhing mass. He landed at the far end, closing his eyes as his mask pulsed blue. Scales shifted restlessly across its surface, and his katana glowed pale white.
The ground trembled.
A wall of water erupted upward, crushing dozens of undead against the ceiling. With a sweeping slash, Haruka split the torrent down the middle, carving a clear corridor through the swarm.
"Now!" he roared.
The elevator burst open. Jax shoved Michael's stretcher forward, the others sprinting beside him. They tore through the passage as the water closed, sweeping the remaining zombies into a drowning grave.
They piled into the ambulance and roared away.
Minutes passed in tense silence.
"How long?" Alice asked from the driver's seat, eyes locked on the road.
"Five hours," Rhea replied, chip in hand.
In the back, Haruka sprawled on the bench, chest heaving.
"You okay?" Jax asked.
"Just… tired. Haven't used it in a while."
"Last time you collapsed in the market. I had to drag you," Hana muttered.
The truck screeched to a halt.
Alice's knuckles went white on the wheel. "…No way."
"What is it?" Jax leaned forward.
"Fuck!" Alice slammed the steering wheel.
Rhea turned to the others. "It's Obsidian."
"They're back? Already?" Hana's voice cracked.
Alice slumped forward. "We might be really fucked this time."