[Drone ETA: 00:00:07]
The timer had blinked earlier that period—just faint enough not to distract. Gabe had stepped out between classes to check the signal feed in silence, standing near the hallway vending machines with a soda he didn't open.
Now, the memory replayed itself clean and sharp across his vision.
[Connection established.]
Live Feed: Active.]
The screen flashed in the corner of his vision—fisheye wide-angle. The drone hovered overhead, then dipped low, banking toward the alley behind the Family Mart near Higashi Bus Stop. Trash bags lined the edge. Two bikes knocked over. A convenience store banner flapped slowly in the wind.
Then it turned the corner.
And there he was.
Mr. Adachi.
He was slumped against the back of a dumpster, one arm crumpled under him. His button-down shirt was soaked through with something dark and spreading. His glasses lay cracked in the dirt.
But it wasn't the body that made Gabe tense.
It was the movement around it.
Three figures.
Slow. Jerky. Shuffling.
Their heads twitched as they moved—one to the side, one up, the third rotating too far before snapping back like a broken puppet.
Their skin had a grayish tone. Blotchy and uneven. One wore what looked like a student uniform, but the sleeves were torn and soaked. Another had blood trailing from the mouth, jaw loose, teeth bared but not biting—just open.
They hadn't seen the drone.
They weren't doing anything yet.
Just standing. Watching. Circling.
Like they were waiting for something.
[TARGET: Adachi, Keiji – Vitals: None]
[CAUSE OF DEATH: Massive Trauma, Cervical Fracture]
[CAUSE UNKNOWN: Bite Pattern, Contagious Carrier Present]
[LOCAL ZONE UPGRADE: RED – Containment Failure Confirmed]
[School Radius Proximity: 540 meters]
[Infection Vector Estimate: 13–22 minutes]
Gabe let out a slow breath through his nose.
No alarms. No panic. No fire.
Just a man dead in an alley, surrounded by things no one would believe were real.
In the corner of his eye, the drone's live feed pulled away, circling once more before vanishing upward into the clouds.
Gabe turned without a word and returned to class.
The last period was math.
At least, that's what the board said.
The teacher hadn't shown up.
No substitute. No explanation. Just a classroom full of students quietly doing whatever they wanted while a few pretended to study out of habit.
Gabe sat with his back to the window again. Not to look out—but to listen. For sirens. Helicopters. Screams.
There were none.
[Hostile Lifeforms: 3 → 5 (200m radius)]
They were getting closer.
He looked at the classroom door, then the hallway beyond it.
Primary exit plan:
North stairwell → second-floor fire escape.
Side exit behind science lab.
Jumpable fence, if needed.
Back alley leads straight to the convenience store lot, where he could summon a vehicle once the System unlocked.
Secondary plan:
Rooftop access → ladder to gym structure → hop down to staff parking.
Riskier. More open. Slower if someone panics.
He mentally assigned labels:
Group A: Strong, fast, responsive. Could follow orders.
Saeko. Rika (once she appears). Possibly Miko, if she didn't argue.
Group B: Smart, but emotional. Might freeze or argue. Marin. Miku. Ichika. Chika. Itsuki.
Group C: Wildcards.
Nino. Students he hadn't spoken to. Faculty.
He would decide who to gather first based on proximity when the moment hit. But he'd already stashed a second utility pack on the second floor, near the art room closet. A third under the rooftop water tanks.
[Quick Cache: Status – Hidden, Unused.]
"I was right," a voice said beside him.
He turned slightly.
Marin Kitagawa, half-leaning on his desk, chopstick still in her mouth from some snack.
"You do think like a soldier."
He blinked. "What?"
"I've been watching you for, like, half the day."
She pulled the chopstick out, twirling it like a wand.
"Every time the room gets quiet, your eyes move to the exits. You don't look out the window for fun, you scan. I even saw you counting ceiling tiles earlier."
"I wasn't counting ceiling tiles."
"You were measuring vent spacing, weren't you?"
He didn't answer.
She grinned.
"See? Only people with dramatic backstories measure vent spacing."
Gabe looked at her.
"You should stop watching me so closely."
"Why? Are you gonna disappear?"
She was joking. Of course she was joking.
But he didn't say anything.
Behind her, the light from the window hit the whiteboard just wrong, casting long shadows across the classroom. The world still looked normal.
Too normal.
[Warning: Entity Crossing School Perimeter]
[Infection Proximity: 128m → 112m]
One of them had just entered school grounds.
The final bell rang like nothing was wrong.
A few students immediately stood. Bags zipped. Chairs scraped. Someone sighed like they'd just survived a war.
But not everyone left.
Some students moved slower. Some didn't move at all.
Miku stayed seated, quietly removing her earbuds one at a time. She didn't say a word, just watched the others leave like she wasn't sure if she was supposed to go yet.
Itsuki continued mumbling at the board, lips pressed in frustration.
Nino stood by the back wall, arms crossed. Her bag was packed, slung on her shoulder, but she didn't walk out. She tapped her foot, quietly fuming at something—maybe the absent teacher, maybe the heat.
Chika had given up all attempts to look productive and was now trying to fold a paper crane using one hand and no thumbs.
And Marin…
She was asleep.
Still at her desk, cheek squished against her arm, faint snore escaping from her open mouth. Her fingers twitched a little in her sleep.
Gabe stood quietly and walked to the window.
The sunlight had turned gold.
Then orange.
It painted the whiteboard, the floor, the backs of heads.
Outside, the campus looked calm.
He scanned the courtyard, rooftops, parking lot—
There.
One figure.
Limping. Twitching. Clothes torn. Hair matted. Blood trailing from the neck.
No one else saw.
Not yet.
[Infection Proximity: 100m]
[Alert: Entity Crossing School Grounds]
Somewhere below, a group of students joked about cram school.
Another door slammed shut.
But this one door—this one—had just opened wide.