"Brother Lin… are you leaving?"
"My brother… is he… okay?"
An Xia leaned against the wall, her gaze fixed on Lin An as he repaired the door. She knew nothing of the apocalypse, nothing of the horrors waiting if he failed to secure the antidote. Her hands twisted nervously at the corner of her skirt. Beneath the long white fabric, her slender legs bore scratches at the knees, and her dress, once pure, was stained with blood and dust. The thin, pale figure before him stirred something protective in Lin An.
Bang!
Lin An slammed the patched iron door into place. Even after awakening, he was still adjusting to his strength. The metal, once unyielding, bent like plastic under his hands. Too much force, and the door would be ruined entirely. He had scavenged steel scraps, hammered them together, and fashioned a makeshift barrier. The dents at the center could not be restored—ugly, but functional.
He paused, breathing heavily, and looked at An Xia.
"An Xia, I'll be back soon. Don't worry about me."
He didn't try to hide the truth.
"Sedum."
Lin An hesitated briefly, then met her eyes with resolve and offered a gentle smile.
"You and Jingtian… will be fine. Believe me."
A soft sigh escaped him. His parents had left him early, and An Xia and Jingtian were the only family he had. Blood ties meant nothing compared to shared life and care. Jingtian's parents had treated him as their own, and An Xia, like a sister, had lived alongside him for years. They were his last soft spots in a cruel world.
An Xia studied his resolute face. Her eyes glimmered red, the familiar tone of his voice grounding her. She remembered the safety she always felt as a child when he was around. As long as Lin An and her brother were here, there seemed to be nothing to fear.
"Brother Lin…" she asked timidly, "when will you leave?"
Her voice trailed off, hesitant. She longed for him to stay just a little longer, but feared seeming selfish. Outside, the wails of zombies and desperate humans echoed, a constant reminder of the danger.
Lin An had sealed all the windows. Darkness enveloped the room, but his vision, enhanced by the Eye of Judgment, rendered it as bright as day.
"I'll leave early tomorrow morning. I'll stay here tonight."
He understood her unspoken plea. An Xia wasn't just a little girl—she was fragile, terrified, and alone. In his previous life, even soldiers had faltered at the brink of death. Many with weaker minds chose suicide over survival.
"Really?" she whispered, voice trembling with relief.
Lin An didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer and ruffled her hair gently. The faint scent of shower gel overlaid the lingering blood and dust, a small comfort in a tainted world.
The Stitcher had yet to emerge. Twelve hours remained before Wanda Mall's zombies mutated. Factoring in travel, he could afford roughly ten hours of rest here. But Lin An's body was already near its limit. After recent battles and the awakening of his abilities, he was running on sheer willpower.
He held her close. An Xia buried her face in his chest, shivering.
"Brother Lin… I'm so scared…"
He tightened his grip slightly, offering silent comfort.
That night, no words were spoken.
Morning came with no chirping birds. Only the wails of the undead and the panicked cries of survivors pierced the air. A man's scream ended abruptly—likely another life snuffed out. Lin An didn't flinch.
He awoke fully restored, the digitized template allowing rapid recovery with sufficient rest. An Jingtian lay safe. An Xia, curled on the sofa, stirred slightly, a faint frown tracing her delicate brows. Tears still marked her cheeks. Lin An's lips curved in a bittersweet smile. She had cried through the night, secretly.
He covered her gently with a blanket and moved to the window. Smoke rose from a distant building, the fire burning all night. On a nearby rooftop, survivors waved tattered white flags in a silent plea for rescue, trapped with no escape.
Lin An scanned the community. Zombies swarmed streets, drawn to the shrill sirens of a vehicle. Others fed on corpses, and glimpses of them appeared fleetingly through broken windows. Civilization was unraveling rapidly.
Natural gas leaks, water shortages, and factory explosions were inevitable. In a world without electricity or clean water, even a bottle of mineral water could ignite deadly conflicts among survivors.
Subconsciously, Lin An reached for his lighter to smoke while thinking. His bloody clothes had vanished, replaced by clean ones—An Xia had done it in the night. The clothes fit him perfectly, her silent care offering a small, human comfort in a collapsing world.
Ding ding.
The alarm he had set rang. Lin An extinguished his cigarette and glanced back at them. An Xia slept with her back to him, a single tear tracing her face. She had so much to say—but for now, he had to leave. He would return. He must return.