The silence that followed the fight was as dense as the smell of blood. Leon wiped his knife on the Licker's body, eyes fixed on Erick, who was still gasping for air. Claire knelt beside him, hands stained with blood as she tried to assess his wounds.
"You almost died," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Erick gave her a tired smile.
"Almost… But 'almost' doesn't count in the apocalypse, right?"
Leon didn't laugh. He slowly approached, still holding the knife.
"What the hell was that? Your eyes... they changed. And you were faster than any human I've ever seen."
Erick looked up. The hostility in Leon's tone was clear.
"You saw what you needed to. If it wasn't for that, we'd all be dead."
Leon crossed his arms.
"That doesn't answer my question."
Claire stood up, placing herself between them.
"That's enough, Leon. He saved us. Let's get out of here before something else shows up."
The officer hesitated, then gave a grunt of agreement.
"This isn't over. I want answers."
Erick stood slowly. His whole body ached, but the Axolotl Regeneration was already healing some of the smaller cuts.
As they walked through the dark halls of the station, Erick tried to stay calm. The ability he had triggered — Snow Leopard's Fury — had been instinctual. Something inside him had awakened when death seemed certain, and for a few seconds, he felt like a beast: fast, merciless, almost... free.
But also terrified of his own power.
[System: Penalty Applied – Fury triggered uncontrollably. -1 Fusion Point]
[New Ability Unlocked: Hunter's Senses – Passive]
Description: During the Fury, Erick partially assimilated the heightened senses of nocturnal predators. Even without activating abilities, he can now detect hostile movement and intent in a limited radius. Still unstable.]
"Great," he muttered to himself. "Now I'm a trouble detector…"
Claire glanced at him.
"You say something?"
"Nothing important. Just remembering how my life was simpler before zombies."
She smiled, even through the exhaustion. For a moment, the tension faded.
"And what did you used to do?"
"Nothing professional. But let's say playing video games and training in survival camps doesn't feel so useless anymore…"
They reached a resting area. Leon quietly shut the door while Claire looked for supplies.
Erick stepped away, leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew he was becoming something more… something beyond human. And he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
But there was no time for doubt.
The silence after the battle was almost deafening.
Erick woke, his body aching but surprisingly functional. The pain in his ribs reminded him of the impact of the fight, and his muscles were tense, like ropes ready to snap. Still, he was alive.
And that was more than he had expected.
Claire sat beside him, leaning against a cracked wall in the storage room they had taken shelter in. The place was small, likely used by Umbrella to store equipment before everything went to hell. She said nothing when he opened his eyes, just handed him a half-open water bottle and gave him a brief smile — tired, but genuine.
"I thought I was going to lose you," she said quietly.
Erick took the bottle and drank slowly. His throat burned, and the metallic taste of adrenaline still clung to his tongue.
He wanted to say something witty, but only managed to whisper:
"I thought I was going to lose myself too."
Claire didn't press further. Maybe she understood the weight behind those words. Maybe she was just trying to stay calm.
Leon, farther away, rummaged through some stacked boxes in silence, but his eyes were always alert. Every time Erick moved, he shot subtle glances, as if expecting… something. A transformation, an explanation, or maybe even an attack. The distrust was thick in the air.
Erick pretended not to notice, but the discomfort was real.
Supplies. Organization. Strategy.
While inspecting the place, they found two tactical backpacks, syringes of adrenaline, antibiotics, a few cans of combat rations, and a small box of assorted ammo — including bullets compatible with Claire and Leon's weapons. A military knife was tucked into the bottom of one of the bags, still sharp. A damaged tactical vest was also found, offering partial protection. Erick studied the item in silence, eyeing the reinforced points and torn seams.
He knew he needed to fight better. The last battle had been a blur of instinct, brute force, and luck.
I can't rely on that every time, he thought, but kept it to himself.
"We'll split this. We can't waste anything," Claire said with resolve. "Every piece of gear here could be the difference between life and death."
Resource Distribution:
Claire took one of the backpacks. She stored some of the antibiotics, three food cans, an extra magazine, and a handheld flashlight.
Leon chose to stay light without a backpack. He took the military knife and part of the ammunition.
Erick took the damaged vest and the second backpack. He packed the adrenaline syringes, two food cans, and a few bottles of water inside.
He slipped into the vest carefully, adjusting the worn-out straps. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
Leon finished checking his weapon, still distant.
"The city's still breathing. And after what we did yesterday, I bet it felt it."
Claire nodded.
"We need to decide our next move. We can't stay here too long."
Erick adjusted the backpack straps. The tension had returned. The brief calm inside that storage room was just an interval — a breath between nightmares.