They finished their meal in relative silence, scraping the last bits of stew from their bowls. The warmth lingered faintly in the air, like the last trace of something ordinary refusing to fade. Once the dishes were washed, they turned their attention to the upstairs living area.
"Mattress first," Adrian said, nodding toward the dusty bedframe in the corner.
Ken wrinkled his nose. "This thing smells like it's been dead longer than the zombies."
Adrian grunted in agreement. "Which is why we're airing it out. Open the windows, prop it up — the sun will do the rest."
Together, they hauled the mattress downstairs and outside, propping it up against the wall. The fabric gave off the stale scent of dust and faint mildew, but with enough sun, it would dry. Ken brushed his hands against his shorts, coughing as the dust swirled up.
"Think anyone's gonna steal our bed while we're out?" Ken joked.
Adrian gave him a flat look. "If someone wants to drag that thing off, I say let them."
With that done, they took turns cleaning themselves up as best they could. The bakery's small washroom still had running water, thankfully the water system is still operational. It wasn't much — cold, slightly metallic — but compared to the grime and dried sweat clinging to their skin, it felt like a luxury.
Ken was the first to go, emerging a few minutes later with his hair still damp and sticking up in messy tufts. "Man, that was freezing," he muttered, rubbing his arms with a towel.
Adrian stepped in next. The air inside was stale, the tiles cracked, but he didn't care. He splashed water over his face and arms, wiping away the dust and grime of the last day. The cold bit into his skin, sending a sharp shiver through him, but it made him feel awake. Alive.
Once he was done, he pulled out the uniform he'd found earlier — a Chiba Academy school uniform, identical to Ken's. The white-and-black polo shirt had orange highlights tracing along the sleeves and collar, with a tie he tucked into his pocket rather than wearing properly. It was a bit loose on him, but compared to his sweat-stained clothes, it felt fresh.
When he stepped out from the stairwell, Ken gave him a once-over and let out a low whistle. "Wow, you'd totally look like my senior at school," he said, half impressed, half amused.
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Should I start giving you homework too?"
Ken snorted. "Please don't. The apocalypse is bad enough."
They shared a short laugh—quiet, genuine. It didn't last long, but moments like this made the silence easier to bear.
They secured their gear afterward. Adrian slung his worn backpack over his shoulder and gripped his metal bat. A spare knife rested inside his pack, just in case. Ken, still lacking a proper weapon, picked up a sturdy metal pipe they'd found nearby. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.
After ensuring their hideout was secure, the two headed out to scavenge for more supplies in the nearby area.
___
The air outside had shifted slightly—warmer, heavier. The early afternoon sun cast long, broken shadows between abandoned cars and storefronts. Adrian led, scanning corners and alleyways, the bat resting against his shoulder in an easy but ready stance. Ken followed close, pipe in hand, occasionally glancing at shop signs as if one of them might miraculously read "Safe Haven This Way."
They moved in a loose grid, checking buildings that hadn't been fully ransacked yet. Some were useless—gutted convenience stores with shelves picked clean and floor tiles stained with dried blood. Others gave them smaller but valuable finds: a handful of batteries tucked in a counter drawer, a roll of bandages still sealed, a dusty box of instant coffee packets.
"Hey, jackpot," Ken whispered at one point, holding up a flashlight.
Adrian tested the switch. It flickered weakly, then turned off again. "Needs batteries, but we've got some. Good find."
As they were exiting another stationery shop, Ken spotted a metal display rack toppled against the wall. Underneath it, mostly untouched, lay a folded map—creased, water-stained, but still legible. He pulled it out and dusted it off. "Think this could help?"
Adrian stepped closer, scanning the printed streets. It wasn't just a tourist map—it was a district map, detailed with side roads, major landmarks, and the ME Corp facility marked clearly near the edge.
"This… actually could," Adrian murmured, taking the map from Ken and carefully unfolding it on a nearby counter. His eyes traced routes—main roads, alleyways, intersections. He mentally marked areas they'd already passed through, places that looked risky, and alternate paths in case things went wrong.
"…Where exactly are we on this thing?" Adrian asked, glancing up at Ken. He wasn't familiar with the city—he'd only arrived yesterday, barely enough time to get his bearings before everything went to hell and he ended up in the Honkai universe. Now, every street looked the same: cracked pavement, overturned cars, and empty windows staring back like hollow eyes. And above it all, that glaringly ominous purple sky.
Ken leaned over and tapped a spot near the edge of the map. "Here. More or less. That street we passed earlier runs along this side."
Adrian followed the line with his finger, nodding slowly. 'I need to remember this. If we're going to move around, I can't afford to be the one who gets us lost.'
Ken leaned back on the counter. "You're really going all out with this, huh?"
Adrian didn't look up. "We need a clear route if we're heading to ME Corp. No more wandering blind."
He tapped at a particular street—a narrow road that ran parallel to the main avenue but looped behind several buildings. "This might work. It's tighter, but less exposed. If we clear the debris and check for stragglers, we could use it as a fallback route. Or even a main path if it's clean enough."
Ken nodded slowly. "Sounds better than walking down zombie central."
They folded the map and tucked it into Adrian's pack before heading out. The afternoon sun cast long shadows between buildings, making everything feel both wide open and claustrophobic. Occasionally, they stopped to listen—waiting for the distant groan of the dead, the scrape of feet, or anything that might signal trouble.
They spent the next hour testing the route Adrian had chosen. A few blocked alleys required some effort—Ken helped Adrian push aside a fallen metal gate, their grunts echoing through the hollow streets. Here and there, a few straggling zombies wandered aimlessly, drawn by the noise. Adrian dispatched them quickly with his bat, the metallic clang of each strike ringing out, while Ken covered his flank with the pipe, making sure nothing crept up behind them.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and rust, the distant groans blending with the wind like a low, haunting chorus. At each corner, Adrian marked their path with bits of chalk from the stationery store—small arrows and symbols only they would recognize. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. A route they could remember.
As they reached a junction, Ken frowned, glancing around the eerily quiet street. "Is it just me, or are there fewer of them than there should be?" he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "I expected a lot more, especially near the main roads."
Adrian didn't answer right away. His grip on the bat tightened as his eyes swept the shadows. Fewer zombies could mean they've drifted somewhere else… or something pulled them away. Whether it was good or bad, neither of them could tell—but the silence felt heavier now.
The scavenging continued after that. They raided a small grocery, managing to grab a few more canned goods and some slightly stale but edible crackers. In a hardware shop that hadn't been completely looted, Ken excitedly grabbed a hammer and a wrench—his first real tools—while Adrian packed nails and tape, already picturing how they could reinforce the bakery's door and windows. In an office supply store, they found a couple more useful items: markers, string, and some old notepads. Adrian tucked them away, thinking ahead to map-making and planning.
At one point, they came across a delivery alley partially blocked by two vending machines. With a bit of teamwork, they shifted one just enough to make a clean shortcut. The screech of metal on pavement set their nerves on edge, but nothing came shambling toward them.
Ken wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Not bad. That's one less detour we have to take next time."
Adrian gave a curt nod. Little by little, we're making this city navigable again. It was strange—trying to impose structure on a world that had collapsed—but it gave their actions weight. Purpose.
By the time the sun began to dip slightly westward, their bags were noticeably heavier. Sweat clung to their backs, but neither complained. It wasn't a bad haul. Not amazing, but steady progress.
"Hey," Ken said as they started heading back. "You know… this almost feels like a routine."
Adrian glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
Ken shrugged, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "You know. Scavenge, map out stuff, not die. Kinda nice."
Adrian huffed a quiet laugh through his nose. "If that's your definition of nice, your standards are low."
"Hey, after everything? I'll take what I can get."
Adrian didn't respond, but inside, he understood. A routine, however fragile, was better than chaos. And for the first time since arriving, their steps toward home felt deliberate—a quiet comfort in knowing where they were headed. Or at least, toward something they could call home.
___
They were about a block away when the sharp clang of metal cut through the quiet streets. Adrian stopped instinctively, shoulders tensing. Ken nearly bumped into him, catching himself just in time.
"…You heard that, right?" Ken whispered.
Adrian gave a short nod, scanning their surroundings. The sound came again—metal scraping against metal—followed by a firm, muffled voice. Not panicked. Someone was there.
That came from the bakery.
They moved cautiously, sticking to walls and slipping through side paths to avoid the open road. Every step brought the noises into clearer focus. Adrian's grip tightened slightly on his bat; unexpected company could mean trouble.
When they finally reached the corner overlooking the bakery, Adrian eased forward and peeked around. The sight made him freeze mid-motion.
A girl stood at the half-opened entrance, a baseball bat in hand, prying at the makeshift lock they'd left behind. She wore the familiar Chiba Academy uniform, skirt swaying lightly in the breeze, thigh-high stockings neat despite the dusty air. But what caught his attention wasn't just the uniform, or the stockings.
Her long snow-white hair was styled into twin drill tails that spilled past her shoulders, framing her bright sky-blue eyes—wide, alert, and brimming with that trademark reckless energy.
Adrian's breath hitched. That's...Kiana.
He recognized her figure immediately—the athletic build, the posture, even that air of confident recklessness, though this time its mixed with something distinctly refined, like a heiress playing hero. But the hair… that was wrong. Kiana usually wore her hair in twin braids especially early on. This style—drill tails—was something he'd only ever seen in GGZ, never in the main timeline.
Adrian let out a slow, quiet exhale through his nose. 'Yep. That's GGZ. I'm screwed.'
He'd already pieced things together after hearing the name "Kyuushou" the Savior. But seeing her like this was confirmation—the kind that made any lingering doubt shrivel up and die. This wasn't some random branch anymore. GGZ was in play, and the stakes had just gone up. The Robin poster in the corner only made things worse, hinting at yet another variable in this already chaotic universe.
Beside him, Ken tilted his head, whispering, "Great. First zombies, now burglars in school uniforms." He squinted at her, lowering his voice even more. "Not a zombie, but isn't our barricade obvious enough to see? Why's she still trying to break in? Think she's after our food or something?"
Adrian didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on Kiana, mind racing. She wasn't moving like someone desperate or starving—no panicked glances over her shoulder, no fumbling. She was methodical, testing the lock, shifting her grip on the bat between attempts. Confident. The kind of confidence that got people killed fast… or meant she could actually handle herself.
Especially since it's her. If she's anything like the Kiana I know, charging in recklessly is exactly what she'd do if threatened. And with those outrageous Kaslana genes… if she snaps, we're the ones in trouble.
Ken leaned closer, keeping his tone casual but tense. "So… what do we do? Say hi before she completely breaks down our door?"
Adrian exhaled slowly through his nose, torn between caution and that faint, irrational hope. "...Yeah. We should talk to her—before she wrecks the place."
Ken smirked. "Finally. Guess you're not all caution after all."
Adrian gave him a sidelong look. "Let's just hope she doesn't mistake us for zombies."
They began to move from cover, keeping low as the door creaked again under Kiana's kicks. Her frustration echoed faintly down the street, and for a brief second, Adrian felt something rare—familiarity. Like a glitch in the chaos that somehow made it all feel a little less hopeless.
They moved quietly, keeping close to the wall as they approached the bakery. Ken was still grinning faintly, the first hint of real excitement he'd shown since yesterday. Adrian, on the other hand, kept his bat raised and his thoughts sharper than ever.
As they got closer, Kiana's voice carried over the quiet street."Hellooo? Anyone in there? I swear I'm not here to rob you—well, unless you've got food, then maybe a little!"
Ken's eyes widened. "She's… actually shouting that out loud?"
Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course she is. Subtlety was never her strong suit."
Ken glanced at him, brows raising slightly. "Wait—you know her?"
Adrian didn't take his eyes off her. "...Let's just say I've got a bad feeling I do."
Before Ken could ask what that meant, Kiana groaned in frustration, stepping back and swinging her bat at the half-broken door. The makeshift barricade cracked, a loose board clattering onto the pavement.
Ken flinched. "That's it—if she keeps that up, she's gonna—"
The sound cut him off. A deep, drawn-out groan rolled down the street like a warning bell. Then another.
Adrian's head snapped toward the noise, instincts flaring. Two shapes were staggering out from behind a wrecked van a few buildings down, drawn by the noise Kiana was making. Their uneven steps and low rasping were unmistakable.
"…Attract half the block," Adrian finished under his breath. He gritted his teeth. "Dammit."
Kiana hadn't noticed them yet. She stepped back again, tightening her grip on the bat as she lined up another swing.
Ken shifted nervously beside him. "We can't just let her keep going. If those things reach her, they'll be right at our door."
"I know." Adrian scanned the street quickly—three zombies now, maybe four, moving slow but steady. He exhaled sharply, mind racing for a way to stop her without making things worse. But the longer they waited, the more noise she made, and the worse it would get.
Ken's jaw tightened. "Screw it, I'll just—"
"Don't," Adrian hissed, cutting him off before he could shout.
Ken froze mid-breath, frustration flashing in his eyes. "Then what? She's already making enough noise as is. You want me to just let her call over the entire neighborhood right to our door and watch her get eaten?"
Adrian's gaze flicked back to Kiana, watching her raise the bat again. "I'm thinking." His voice was low but strained. "One wrong move and we'll have a swarm, or worse—she'll panic and start swinging at us too."
Adrian's breath quickened. The low groans were multiplying—what began as three shapes was now a small crowd spilling from behind the overturned bus at the far end of the street. Half a dozen, maybe more. Some were dragging their feet, others moved with unsettling twitchy steps, like marionettes tugged by invisible strings.
"Adrian," Ken said, voice tight. "That's… way more than four."
"Yeah," Adrian muttered. "I see them."
The nearest few were already turning toward the noise, their cloudy eyes glinting faintly in the sun. One brushed against a rusted car door, setting off a sharp metallic clang that made Kiana pause mid-swing and glance over her shoulder.
Ken tensed. "She sees them."
"Good. Maybe now she'll—"
Kiana didn't run. She grinned.
"Oh, for fuck's sake…" Adrian muttered.
Instead of retreating, Kiana charged forward with her bat raised high, meeting the first zombie halfway. The metallic thud of the impact echoed down the street as the creature's head snapped back and collapsed. She spun, driving her heel into the next one's knee before smashing its skull in with a follow-up strike.
Ken's jaw dropped. "She's insane."
"She's a Kaslana," Adrian muttered. "Insanity's their family tradition."
But even with her quick reflexes, there were too many. The rest of the horde—twenty, maybe thirty now—were closing in fast, drawn by the commotion. Every impact, every shout pulled more from the shadows.
"She's not gonna make it," Ken said, stepping forward. "We have to—"
Adrian grabbed his shoulder. "We go loud, we pull all of them."
"And if we don't, she dies!"
Adrian's teeth ground together. Ken was right—logic and survival didn't always align. And while he had faith that if this was the Kiana he knew, she would make it—if not clear the horde, then at least escape—a part of him couldn't bear to watch her fight alone while he stood back, knowing he could help.
"Fine," he said sharply. "Circle left—flank the ones furthest from her. I'll cover her side."
Ken nodded, grip tightening on the pipe. "Got it."
They broke from cover. The air filled instantly with the noise of boots and shuffling feet. Adrian sprinted toward the nearest zombie just as it turned toward him, the bat whistling through the air before connecting with a sickening crack. The body fell limp, head twisting at an unnatural angle.
Kiana glanced up mid-swing, surprised. For a brief moment, her eyes met his—blue meeting gray.
"Who the hell—" she started, but a zombie lunged from her blind spot.
Adrian didn't think. He closed the distance and swung hard, knocking it aside before driving the bat straight down.
"Less talking, more hitting!" he barked.
Kiana blinked, momentarily thrown off, then grinned. "You could've just said hi!"
Ken's voice rang out from the left. "Less flirting, more killing!"
The three of them fell into a rough rhythm—Adrian handling the front, Ken sweeping in from the side, and Kiana pivoting between them with frightening energy. For every one they downed, another stumbled from the far end of the street.
When the last one fell, silence slowly crept back in—broken only by ragged breathing and the faint hum of wind through the buildings.
Adrian lowered his bat, the metal smeared dark. He sighed, half in disbelief, half in exhaustion. "You always make this much noise when you greet people?"
Kiana blinking, twirled her bat once before resting it on her shoulder, still catching her breath. "H-Hey, I didn't mean to! I thought this place was empty—then you two came out like some horror movie jump scare!"
Ken gave her a look. "You were the one shouting outside."
She hesitated, eyes darting aside as a faint blush colored her cheeks. "...Well, I was knocking but no one answered! What was I supposed to do? Starve outside?"
Ken groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You realize that 'breaking and entering' isn't the same as knocking, right?"
"I wasn't breaking in!" she said quickly, her tone somewhere between flustered and indignant. "I was… checking if anyone was still alive."
Adrian arched a brow. "By trying to smash the door open?"
Kiana puffed her cheeks slightly, turning away. "Okay, maybe I got a little carried away. But you could've said something sooner!"
Ken snorted. "Yeah, because shouting 'Hey, please stop breaking our door!' totally wouldn't have attracted a horde."
She blinked, realizing how bad it sounded, then scratched the back of her head with a sheepish grin. "...Right. Guess that's fair."
Adrian exhaled, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. "Next time, maybe try not announcing yourself to the entire city."
Kiana smiled faintly, her usual brightness returning. "Noted. But, uh… thanks for the help back there."
Ken rolled his eyes. "Sure. Just don't make us do it again."
Adrian gave a short nod. "Let's get inside before more show up. We'll talk once the door's shut."
Kiana nodded quickly, relief flickering across her face before she masked it behind another playful grin. "Sure!"
A moment later, she hesitated, glancing between them. "You guys don't happen to have, like… food, right?"
Ken groaned softly. "Priorities, huh?"
"Hey," she said with a sheepish shrug. "A girl's gotta ask."
Ken muttered under his breath, "She's definitely trouble."
Adrian's gaze lingered on her as she stepped into the bakery, the last trace of sunlight catching in her snow-white hair. "Yeah," he murmured, half to himself. "The dangerous kind."