The quiet that followed felt dense, oppressive. It rushed in to fill the void left by the energy blast, pressing on their eardrums, thick and absolute. The only light was the soft, steady blue glow from the core in Ben's hands, a single, calm star in a universe of darkness. The air was a cocktail of foul odors: the sharp, clean scent of ozone, the cloying sweetness of rot, and a new, deeply unpleasant smell like cooked, spoiled meat.
Leo leaned heavily against an overturned table, his legs shaking with a tremor he couldn't control. The throbbing in his head had subsided, leaving behind a dull, hollow ache. His stomach lurched, and he swallowed hard against the taste of bile and victory. They'd done it. The thought, fragile and unbelievable, threatened to shatter if he examined it too closely.
"Is… is everyone okay?" Chloe's voice cut through the stillness, shaky but blessedly present.
"I'm good," Maya's voice came from the far wall, a low grunt of affirmation.
"My ears are ringing, and I think I singed my eyebrows, but…" Ben's voice trailed off into a breathless, slightly manic laugh. "It worked. Holy crap, it actually worked." He was staring at the [Corrupted Security Core] in his hands. Its light, which had been frantic and unstable, was now a calm, steady pulse. Its internal blue veins seemed… cleaner. More organized.
As if in response, a series of notifications pinged into their vision, one after another, the familiar blue text a jarringly clinical postscript to the visceral horror of the fight.
[System Anomaly Neutralized. XP Gained: 150] [Congratulations! Chloe Tanaka has reached Level 2.] [New Skill Unlocked: Read Intent] [Congratulations! Benjamin Carr has reached Level 2.] [New Skill Unlocked: Component Analysis] [Congratulations! Maya Lin has reached Level 8.] [Leo Maxwell: Skill Proficiency Increased for Minor Edit.]
"Whoa," Ben breathed, transfixed. "Level two. Component Analysis… I wonder what the specs are."
Chloe let out a long, shuddering breath, pressing a hand to her chest. "Read Intent?" she murmured, a frown creasing her brow. "What does that even mean?" She looked over at Leo, an unspoken question in her eyes.
"I… I don't know," Leo admitted, his own notification a small, quiet affirmation of his own draining effort. Proficiency. That's what he got for the headache. "It's your skill. You'll have to figure it out."
The immediate, life-threatening danger was gone, but the aftermath was a special kind of hell. The floor was coated in a warm, sticky layer of the Leech's remains. It was like wading through a puddle of lukewarm gravy. Every step made a wet, sucking sound.
"Right," Chloe said, her voice regaining its familiar, steady tone. She was the project manager again, taking control of the chaos. "The plan hasn't changed. Supplies. We came here for a reason." She turned on her phone's flashlight, the beam cutting a swath through the disgusting mess. "Ben, can you get the other emergency light working? We need to see what we're doing."
Ben, spurred into action, nodded and went to work, pulling wires from his bag. Maya methodically began to check the exits, her knives held ready, her gaze sweeping the dark corners of the room for any other surprises. She was a creature of tactics, and the fight being over didn't mean the area was secure.
Leo and Chloe began the grim task of scavenging.
It was a slow, disgusting process. Every can of beans, every bottle of water, every sealed bag of chips was potentially coated in the creature's corrosive slime. Chloe was meticulous, wiping everything down with napkins from a dispenser before placing it into one of the duffel bags they'd found.
"We need things that are sealed," she instructed, her voice all business. "Cans. Bottles. Forget anything in a cardboard box. Can't risk it."
Leo moved toward the industrial kitchen, his feet sticking with every step. The stench was worse in here. A walk-in pantry stood open, its metal shelves a treasure trove. He began pulling down heavy cans of peaches, beans, and industrial-sized tubs of peanut butter. The cans pulled at his arms—a reassuring burden of survival. Each one he added to the bag was a small victory. Another few hours of life.
"The water filters," Ben called out from the main room. The emergency light he was working on flickered to life, casting a harsh, sterile glow over the scene. "Under the main drink station. Corporate installed them last year. We can use them to purify any water we find."
Chloe was already there, pulling out two large, cylindrical filters. "Good thinking, Ben."
It was strange. Amidst the carnage and the filth, they were… working. A team. Ben's technical knowledge, Chloe's logistical mind, Maya's tactical awareness, and his own… weird, reality-hacking bullshit. It was a bizarre, dysfunctional, but effective machine.
Maya returned from her sweep of the perimeter. "The back exit from the kitchen leads to a service hallway," she reported. "Looks clear. It connects back to the main stairwell." She glanced at the pile of supplies they were accumulating. "Good. We'll need the calories."
As Leo was clearing the last shelf in the pantry, his hand brushed against a small, leather-bound notebook tucked behind a box of sugar packets. It wasn't a standard-issue kitchen log. He picked it up. A journal. He flipped it open. The last entry was written in a shaky, spidery hand.
Day 2. The screaming stopped a few hours ago. I think there's about a dozen of us left on this floor. We barricaded the doors, but… something is out there. Not the little green things from yesterday. Something else. It doesn't make a sound. Jim went to check the barricade an hour ago. He just… screamed. One quick scream. When we looked, he was just… deflating. Like a balloon. God help us. It's hungry.
Leo's chest tightened. He closed the book, his hand trembling slightly. These people hadn't just been victims. They had been survivors. They had fought. They had hoped. And then their [Bio-Energy] had been set to zero.
He shoved the journal into his pocket. A grim reminder.
He walked back out into the main cafeteria. Ben had managed to get a few more lights on, running them off a series of interlinked backup batteries. The room was now brightly, horribly lit, revealing the true extent of the carnage. The dried husks of the former employees, their faces locked in silent screams, seemed to watch them.
"Okay," Chloe said, zipping a second full duffel bag. "I think this is it. We have enough food and water for at least a week, maybe more if we're careful. The first-aid supplies are topped up." She looked at the team, her gaze lingering on each of them. "We did good."
It was true. They had faced a nightmare and won. They were stronger, better equipped, and hope—fragile as spider silk but there, undeniably there—threaded through the group.
But as Leo looked at the barricaded doors, a new kind of dread settled in. They had a fortress. They had supplies. For the first time since G-Day, they were relatively safe.
"So… what now?" Ben asked, the question hanging in the air. "Do we… stay here? Fortify this place?"
It was the sensible option. The safe option. A defensible position, a stockpile of resources. It was everything they had been fighting for.
And Leo knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that it was the worst thing they could possibly do. Because he understood the System now. It wasn't just a disaster. It was a program. And programs had updates. They had patches. And sometimes… they had scheduled purges for processes that had stopped responding.
Hiding was just waiting to be deleted.