Far away from her, in a land already reduced to ruins, stood an abandoned factory.
Rusted beams jutted out like broken bones, the air thick with the stench of decay and dried blood. Zombies filled the place... hundreds of them... standing in eerie silence.
At the center of it all, a throne had been fashioned from twisted metal and shattered machinery.
Upon it sat a zombie.
At first glance, it looked as though it were being worshipped.
Every other zombie surrounding the throne kept a respectful distance, their heads lowered, their bodies stiff with instinctive fear.
If one looked closely, one would realize this zombie was nothing like the others.
Its skin was almost translucent, pale to the point of whiteness, as if life itself had been drained long ago.
It looked disturbingly human. What truly set it apart, however, was its aura... terrifying, overwhelming, and so oppressive that even a level-four human would instinctively tremble before it.
Its eyes were closed.
