The hydraulic lift hissed. It was a dying sound.
Kael wiped a smear of black grease from his forehead, leaving a dark streak across his brow. The air in the garage was thick, smelling of stale oil, rust, and the cheap coffee he'd been nursing since six in the morning. It was hot. The kind of humidity that made your shirt stick to your back like a second skin.
He kicked the tire of the beat-up Ford sedan hovering above him.
"Piece of junk," he muttered. "Transmission's shot. Suspension's gone. If old man Miller wants this thing running, he's gonna have to sell a kidney."
He tossed the wrench onto the metal workbench. It landed with a heavy clang, echoing in the empty shop.
Kael checked his watch. 2:14 PM.
Miller was late. Again.
He walked over to the mini-fridge in the corner, stepping over a pile of scrap metal he'd been meaning to sort for weeks. The shop—"Kael's Auto & Fix"—wasn't much. Just a glorified concrete box with a corrugated metal roof and a roller door that jammed if you looked at it wrong. It was a dump. But it was his dump.
He grabbed a bottle of water, cracked the cap, and took a long swig.
That's when he heard it.
It wasn't a scream. Screams were high-pitched, sharp. This was different. It was a wet, gurgling sound. Like someone trying to gargle with a throat full of gravel.
Then came the crash.
Glass shattering against pavement. The screech of tires. The sickening crunch of metal hitting flesh.
Kael froze. He lowered the water bottle.
"Miller?" he called out, moving toward the front office.
The office had a large window facing the street. Usually, the view was boring—just the cracked asphalt of 4th Street and the flickering neon sign of the laundromat opposite.
Today, the view was hell.
A delivery truck had plowed sideways into the laundromat. Smoke billowed from the hood, black and oily. But that wasn't what made Kael's stomach turn.
It was the people.
Mrs. Higgins, the lady who walked her poodle every afternoon at two, was on the ground. She wasn't moving. The poodle was barking frantically, tugging at the leash.
And on top of Mrs. Higgins was the delivery driver.
He was tearing at her neck.
Kael blinked. His brain refused to process the image. Is he... biting her?
Blood sprayed across the pavement in a jagged arc. It was bright red. Too much of it.
"Holy hell," Kael whispered.
He backed away from the window. Instinct took over. He didn't know what was happening—drugs, a riot, a psychotic break—but he knew he didn't want to be behind a plate of thin glass when the chaos spread.
He ran back into the main garage bay.
The roller door. It was open. A wide, inviting mouth to the madness outside.
He slammed his hand on the "DOWN" button.
The motor groaned. The rusted chain rattled. The heavy steel door began to descend, inch by agonizing inch.
Chunk. Chunk. Chunk.
"Faster, you piece of garbage," Kael hissed, watching the gap narrow.
Through the shrinking opening, he saw movement. The driver had stopped eating Mrs. Higgins. He stood up. His movements were jerky, unnatural. His jaw hung loose, disconnected on one side.
He looked right at the garage. Right at Kael.
Then he started running.
He didn't run like a person. He ran like a predator. Head low, arms flailing.
"Come on!" Kael kicked the wall next to the button, as if percussive maintenance would speed up the electricity.
The door was at waist height. The thing—it wasn't a man anymore—was ten yards away. Knee height. Five yards.
The creature dove. It hit the concrete floor, sliding under the descending metal.
Kael didn't think. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed the nearest heavy object—a rusted brake rotor sitting on the floor.
As the creature's head popped up under the door, snapping its teeth, Kael brought the rotor down.
CRACK.
It sounded like a watermelon being dropped from a roof.
The creature stopped moving. Its head was a ruin. Black blood, thick and foul-smelling, pooled rapidly on the concrete.
The roller door clanged shut, sealing the bottom edge against the floor. The garage was plunged into semi-darkness, lit only by the dusty skylights high above.
Kael stood there, chest heaving. He stared at the thing caught halfway in. Its legs were outside. Its crushed head was inside.
"What the..."
He dropped the brake rotor. His hands were shaking. Not from fear—not yet—but from the sheer, violent shock of it. He stepped back, wiping his hands on his greasy overalls, trying to get a feeling of filth off his skin.
Suddenly, a sharp pain spiked behind his eyes.
It wasn't a headache. It felt like someone had driven a hot nail into his frontal lobe. Kael fell to his knees, clutching his head. He gritted his teeth, a groan escaping his lips. The world spun. The smell of oil and blood mixed into a nauseating cocktail.
Is this it? Am I having a stroke?
Then, the pain vanished as quickly as it arrived.
A sound chimed in his ears. Clear. Digital. Like a notification on a smartphone, but resonating inside his skull.
A blue, translucent box materialized in the air in front of his face. It hovered there, glowing softly in the dim light.
Kael blinked. He waved his hand through it. His fingers passed through the light, but the text remained.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
[WELCOME, HOST KAEL]
[CURRENT STATUS: SURVIVOR] [LOCATION: UNSAFE]
Kael stared. "I'm hallucinating. Great. Just great. I kill a crackhead and now I've snapped."
The text scrolled.
[THE OLD WORLD HAS ENDED. THE AGE OF RUIN HAS BEGUN.] [SURVIVE. BUILD. DOMINATE.]
[UNIQUE CLASS AWAKENED: SOVEREIGN OF CONSTRUCTION]
[DETECTING SHELTER...] [TARGET: AUTO-REPAIR SHOP (DILAPIDATED)] [DEFENSE RATING: 5/100 (CRITICAL)] [CURRENT OCCUPANTS: 1 HUMAN, 1 CORPSE]
Kael read the words. Sovereign of Construction?
He looked at the dead thing under the door. He looked at the roller shutter.
Floating above the rusted metal of the door was a smaller, different box. A label.
[Object: Rusted Roller Door] [Grade: Trash] [Durability: 30/100] [Upgrade Cost: 10 Survival Points]
Kael squinted. "Upgrade?"
He looked around the shop. Labels were popping up everywhere.
[Object: Hydraulic Lift - Grade: Common - Upgrade Cost: 50 SP] [Object: Pipe Wrench - Grade: Common - Upgrade Cost: 5 SP] [Object: Half-Eaten Sandwich - Grade: Biohazard]
He looked back at the main interface.
[CURRENT SURVIVAL POINTS (SP): 0]
[MISSION TRIGGERED: SECURE THE PERIMETER] [OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE THE INTRUDER COMPLETELY AND SECURE THE ENTRANCE.] [REWARD: 100 SP]
Kael looked down at the corpse. The legs were still twitching outside. The door wasn't fully locked because the body was wedged underneath.
From outside, the screaming was getting louder. More sirens. More crashes. And the sound of running feet.
Someone—or something—slammed against the metal door from the outside. The aluminum rattled violently.
BANG. BANG.
"Open up! Let us in!" a voice screamed. Then a wet choke. Then silence.
BANG.
The corpse under the door jerked.
Kael realized with a jolt of horror that the thing wasn't dead. Even with a crushed skull, the fingers were clawing at the concrete. It was trying to pull itself fully inside.
Kael grabbed the pipe wrench from the bench. The weight of the cold steel felt good. Real.
"System," Kael said, his voice raspy. "If you're real... show me what you got."
He stepped toward the door.
The pipe wrench was heavy in his hand. Solid steel. Cold.
Kael didn't scream. He didn't have the breath for it. He stepped on the creature's left hand—the one clawing at the concrete, trying to drag the rest of its body inside—and brought the wrench down.
CRUNCH.
The wrist snapped. The sound was dry, like stepping on a bundle of dry twigs.
The creature didn't make a noise of pain. It just kept thrashing. Its other hand flailed blindly, fingers hooking into the cuff of Kael's greasy jeans.
"Let go," Kael grunted.
He swung again. This time, he aimed for the elbow. The joint shattered. The arm went limp.
But the legs outside were still kicking, pushing against the pavement. The torso was wedged tight under the roller door. The sensor on the door motor was buzzing, trying to reverse because of the obstruction.
"Stay down!"
Kael grabbed the back of the creature's shirt—a torn delivery uniform soaked in black slime—and heaved. He put his back into it. His boots slipped on the oily floor.
With a wet shluck sound, the body popped free from the gap.
Kael stumbled back, dragging the corpse fully into the garage.
The moment the obstruction was cleared, the roller door finished its descent. It slammed into the concrete floor with a final, metallic thud. The lock engaged.
Darkness swallowed the garage.
The only light came from the high, grime-coated skylights and the glowing blue square floating in front of Kael's face.
[MISSION COMPLETE: SECURE THE PERIMETER] [REWARD: 100 SURVIVAL POINTS (SP)]
[CURRENT SP: 100]
Kael dropped the corpse. He backed away until his back hit the workbench. He was panting. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
He looked down at the dead man. The head was a mess of bone fragments and grey matter. But the fingers were still twitching.
"Stay dead," Kael whispered. He gripped the wrench tighter, knuckles white.
BANG.
The sound came from the door he just closed.
BANG. BANG.
Someone was hammering on the outside. No, not someone. Multiple people. Or things.
"Open the door! I hear you in there!" A voice screamed. It sounded human. Desperate. Then came a gurgle, cut short by a wet tearing sound.
Then the banging changed. It wasn't fists anymore. It was bodies throwing themselves against the metal.
The roller door—cheap, corrugated aluminum installed by the lowest bidder ten years ago—shuddered. A dent appeared in the center, bulging inward.
Kael stared at the dent.
"It won't hold," he said aloud. The realization was cold water in his veins.
The metal groaned. The tracks on the side rattled, loose screws vibrating against the brickwork.
Kael looked at the floating blue text.
[Object: Rusted Roller Door] [Grade: Trash] [Durability: 28/100 (DAMAGED)] [Status: UNDER ATTACK]
A new line of text flashed red.
[WARNING: STRUCTURAL FAILURE IMMINENT. ESTIMATED TIME TO BREACH: 45 SECONDS.]
45 seconds.
Kael looked around the shop for something to brace it with. The hydraulic lift? Too far. The car? No keys.
He looked back at the blue box. At the bottom, a button pulsed.
[UPGRADE AVAILABLE] [Reinforced Steel Gate (Level 1)] [Cost: 50 SP]
Kael didn't hesitate. He didn't question the physics or the sanity of it. He just focused his mind on that button.
"Upgrade," he commanded. "Do it."
[CONFIRMED. DEDUCTING 50 SP.]
The air in the garage shifted. The temperature dropped ten degrees in a second.
A hum filled the room, low and vibrating, like a massive generator powering up.
Kael watched, eyes wide.
The roller door didn't just change; it mutated.
The rust flaking off the metal didn't fall to the floor—it dissolved into grey dust and was sucked back into the structure. The thin, corrugated aluminum ripple smoothed out. The metal darkened, turning from a cheap silver to a heavy, matte gunmetal grey.
It sounded like grinding stones.
The tracks on the wall expanded. Bolts drove themselves deeper into the brick, the heads twisting and locking with a screech of torque.
The dent in the center popped back out, erased as the metal thickened.
It took three seconds.
In three seconds, the flimsy garage door had been replaced by a slab of industrial plating that looked like it belonged on a bank vault.
THUD.
Something hit the door from the outside.
This time, the metal didn't shudder. It didn't rattle. The sound was dull, solid. Like punching a tank.
[UPGRADE COMPLETE]
[Object: Reinforced Steel Gate] [Grade: Common (Level 1)] [Durability: 500/500] [Defense: High] [Bonus Attribute: Sound Dampening]
Kael let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He slumped against the workbench, sliding down until he hit the floor.
The banging outside continued, but it was distant now. Muffled. The "Sound Dampening" attribute was working.
"Fifty points," Kael muttered. He checked his balance.
[CURRENT SP: 50]
He was alive.
He looked at the corpse again. The twitching had finally stopped.
Kael stood up slowly. His legs felt like jelly. He walked over to the body. He needed to be sure. He raised the wrench and brought it down one more time on the skull.
Splatter.
[KILL CONFIRMED] [Target: Infected Civilian (Level 1)] [Reward: 5 SP]
"Five points," Kael said. He looked at the mess on the floor. "You were worth five points."
He wiped the wrench on the dead man's pants.
He needed to think. He needed to assess.
He walked to the center of the garage. It was a mess. Tools scattered, oil stains, the half-disassembled Ford on the lift.
He focused. He wanted to see everything.
Instantly, the room lit up with overlays. It was like wearing Augmented Reality glasses, but the interface was burned directly into his retinas.
[Object: Hydraulic Lift] [Status: Operational] [Upgrade: Heavy Duty lift (Allows Armored Vehicles) - Cost: 100 SP]
[Object: Workbench] [Status: Cluttered] [Upgrade: Crafting Station (Basic) - Cost: 75 SP]
[Object: Brick Walls] [Status: Weak] [Upgrade: Reinforced Concrete - Cost: 200 SP]
Kael ran a hand through his hair. "I need more points."
He walked to the office door. The office had the window facing the street. If the roller door was secure, the window was the weak point.
He approached the office door carefully. It was a simple wooden door with a glass pane.
[Object: Wooden Office Door] [Grade: Trash] [Durability: 10/100]
He pushed it open.
The office was chaotic. Papers on the floor from when he'd run out. Through the large front window, he could see the street.
It was a slaughterhouse.
The sun was starting to set, casting long, bloody shadows across 4th Street. The delivery truck was still smoking. There were bodies everywhere. Some were lying still. Some were eating.
A group of three... things... were banging on the new steel gate of the garage. They looked like teenagers. Torn jeans, hoodies. One of them had half a face missing.
They scratched at the steel, their fingernails breaking off. They couldn't get in.
Kael stepped back from the window. If they saw him here...
Crash.
A rock sailed through the window of the laundromat across the street. Looters. Not zombies. Living people, smashing glass to grab whatever they could.
Kael crouched down behind the filing cabinet.
[ALERT: VULNERABILITY DETECTED] [Location: Front Office Window] [Defense Rating: 0/100] [Recommendation: Barricade or Reinforce]
Kael looked at the window. It was six feet wide. Plate glass.
[Upgrade: Ballistic Glass] [Cost: 150 SP]
"I don't have 150," Kael whispered. "I have 55."
He needed to improvise. The System could upgrade things, but could it recognize his own work?
He crawled back into the garage. He scanned the room.
In the corner, piled against the wall, were old sheets of scrap metal. Remnants from a custom truck bed job he did last month. Diamond plate steel. Heavy. Sharp.
He also had a welder.
Kael stood up. The fear was fading, replaced by a cold, mechanical logic. The same logic he used when an engine wouldn't start.
Problem: Big glass window. Solution: Cover it with metal. Resource: Scrap + Welder.
He walked over to the welding cart. He checked the gas tank. Full.
He dragged the cart toward the office. Then he went back for the steel plates. They were heavy, cutting into his palms. He didn't care.
He dragged the first plate into the office and leaned it against the wall under the window.
"Let's see if this counts," Kael muttered.
He flipped the mask of the welding helmet down. The world turned green.
He struck the arc.
The arc hissed like a furious snake.
Blue-white light flooded the small office, casting harsh, flickering shadows against the peeling paint. The smell of ozone mixed with the burning paint on the window frame.
Kael worked fast. Too fast. His welds were ugly—thick, globby lines of molten steel that looked like bird droppings—but they were hot and they were deep.
Zzzzt. Pop.
He was tack-welding the diamond plate directly to the steel security bars that were already behind the glass. The bars were old, rusted, and wide enough for a child to squeeze through. They wouldn't stop a determined adult. But the plate would.
[CONSTRUCTION DETECTED] [Quality: Poor] [Defense Rating Increased: +5]
Kael ignored the text floating in his peripheral vision. He didn't care about the grade. He cared that there was still a three-foot gap of open glass above the plate.
He killed the torch. The sudden silence was deafening.
He flipped the welding helmet up. The room was dim, his eyes adjusting from the blinding arc to the twilight gloom. Smoke curled from the fresh welds.
Thump.
Kael froze. The sound came from right in front of him.
He looked up.
Pressed against the top half of the window—the part he hadn't covered yet—was a face.
It was pale, almost grey. The eyes were clouded with cataracts of blood. The mouth was open, smearing saliva and red grime against the glass.
Kael recognized him. It was the UPS guy. The one who usually complained about the heat.
"Hey," the UPS guy said. His voice was muffled by the glass, wet and distorted. "Package."
Kael stepped back, his boot hitting the welding cart. "Go away."
The UPS guy smiled. It was a horrible expression. The skin at the corners of his mouth tore.
"Package for... meat."
SMASH.
The UPS guy didn't use his hands. He slammed his forehead into the plate glass.
The window didn't just crack; it exploded. Shards of glass rained down into the office, clattering onto the steel plate Kael had just installed.
"Hell!" Kael shielded his face with his arms.
The zombie lunged. It vaulted over the steel plate, catching its waist on the hot, fresh welds.
Sizzle.
The smell of cooking meat hit Kael instantly. Acrid. Sweet. Nauseating.
The zombie didn't scream. It didn't even flinch. It just scrambled over the barricade, its burnt flesh sticking to the metal, leaving chunks of skin behind.
Kael fumbled for the chipping hammer on his welding cart. It was a small tool, a pointed hammer used to knock slag off welds. Not a weapon. A toothpick.
The zombie hit the floor and sprang.
Kael swung the hammer. It was a panic swing. The point caught the zombie in the shoulder, sinking into the uniform. It did nothing.
The weight of the body slammed into Kael, driving him back into the filing cabinets. The metal cabinet dented with a loud CRANG.
They went down.
Kael was on his back. The zombie was on top of him. Its breath smelled like a sewer pipe that had burst in the sun.
"Get off!" Kael roared.
He jammed his left forearm under the zombie's chin, holding the snapping jaws inches from his nose. Teeth clicked together. Snap. Snap.
The zombie was strong. Unnaturally strong. Kael's tricep burned as he tried to keep the head back.
He still had the chipping hammer in his right hand, but his arm was pinned under the zombie's ribcage.
He couldn't get leverage.
The zombie's hands were clawing at Kael's chest, ripping through his greasy coveralls. Nails dug into skin. Kael felt warm blood trickle down his stomach.
Think. Think you idiot.
The welding torch. It was still in his hand, entangled in the hose.
Kael dropped the hammer. He gripped the torch handle.
He couldn't ignite it. He needed two hands to strike the flint.
But the tip... the tip was still glowing cherry red.
Kael gritted his teeth. He stopped trying to push the zombie away and instead pulled it closer, twisting his body.
He jammed the hot copper nozzle into the zombie's ear.
Hiss.
The creature thrashed. For the first time, it made a sound of distress—a high-pitched shriek that sounded like a tea kettle. The brain was boiling.
The pressure on Kael's throat loosened.
Kael bucked his hips, throwing the body to the side. He scrambled backward, kicking himself across the floor until he hit the desk.
The zombie was rolling on the floor, clutching its head. Smoke poured from its ear canal.
Kael grabbed the heavy stapler from the desk. Solid metal. Swingline.
He lunged.
He smashed the stapler into the zombie's temple. Once. Twice. Three times.
The third hit crunched. The zombie stopped rolling.
Kael didn't stop. He hit it again. And again. Until the stapler broke.
[KILL CONFIRMED] [Target: Infected Human (Variant: Agitated)] [Reward: 8 SP]
Kael dropped the ruins of the stapler. He sat there, legs sprawled, chest heaving. His coveralls were torn. He was bleeding from three deep scratches on his chest.
"Eight points," he wheezed. "Cheap bastard."
CRUNCH.
Glass crunched under a boot.
Kael's head snapped up.
Another one was climbing through the broken window. Then another.
The noise. The screaming zombie. It was a dinner bell.
"You have got to be kidding me."
He couldn't fight them here. The office was a trap. The window was wide open now.
He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the welding cart and shoving it toward the door to the garage.
He ran into the garage bay and slammed the wooden office door shut. He locked the flimsy handle.
It wouldn't hold.
[Object: Wooden Office Door] [Durability: 10/100] [Status: COMPROMISED]
Bodies hit the door from the other side. The wood splintered instantly. A hand punched through the plywood panel.
Kael looked around the garage. He was sealed in. Roller door: Locked (Steel). Office door: Breaking.
He had 63 SP. (55 + 8).
He needed a weapon. A real one. The wrench was good. The hammer was okay. But he was outnumbered.
He looked at the [Crafting Menu] button blinking in his vision.
[BASIC CRAFTING AVAILABLE] [Materials Detected: Scrap Metal, Pipe, Duct Tape, Saw Blade]
[Blueprint: Serrated Spear] [Cost: 15 SP + Materials]
[Blueprint: Spiked Shield] [Cost: 20 SP + Materials]
Kael grabbed a long iron pipe from the rack and a circular saw blade from the bench.
"Craft," he barked. "Spear. Now."
[CONFIRMED. ASSISTED CRAFTING INITIATED.]
Kael's hands moved on their own. It was a strange sensation, like muscle memory he didn't possess taking over.
He slammed the saw blade into the slot at the end of the pipe. He wrapped the duct tape with machine-perfect precision, tight and thick. He hammered the metal to crimp it around the blade.
It took ten seconds.
In his hands, he now held a five-foot iron pipe topped with a rusted, razor-sharp circular saw blade.
[Item Created: Scavenger's Saw-Spear] [Grade: Common] [Damage: Medium] [Reach: Long]
The office door shattered.
Three infected burst into the garage. Two men in suits and a woman in jogging gear. They saw Kael. They snarled.
Kael stood in the middle of the grease-stained floor. He hefted the spear. The weight was balanced. Perfect.
"Come on," he said, his voice cold.
The first one, a suit-guy, ran at him.
Kael didn't swing. He thrust.
The saw blade punched through the suit-guy's chest. The teeth of the blade caught on bone. Kael twisted the shaft. The chest cavity was shredded.
The zombie fell, but the momentum dragged the spear down.
The second one was already flanking him.
Kael planted his boot on the first zombie's chest and ripped the spear free with a wet shluck.
He spun the pole, swinging the back end like a quarterstaff. The heavy iron pipe cracked the second zombie in the jaw, spinning it around.
Kael reversed his grip and drove the saw blade into the back of its neck. The spine severed. It dropped like a sack of potatoes.
[KILL CONFIRMED: +5 SP] [KILL CONFIRMED: +5 SP]
The third one, the jogger, hesitated.
She looked at her fallen pack. Then at Kael. Then at the wicked blade dripping with black gore.
She hissed, crouched low, and sprang.
She was fast. A Runner.
Kael thrust, but she dodged, sliding under the pole. She clawed at his legs.
Kael kicked out, his heavy steel-toe boot catching her in the face. She tumbled back.
Before she could recover, Kael brought the saw blade down in a vertical chop. It cleaved through her collarbone and deep into her lungs.
She thrashed once, then stilled.
[KILL CONFIRMED: +8 SP]
Silence returned to the garage.
Kael stood amidst the carnage. Three bodies. Black blood pooling around his boots.
He leaned on the spear, breathing hard. The adrenaline was starting to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest where he'd been scratched.
He checked the wound. Three red lines. Puffy. Burning.
[ALERT: INFECTION DETECTED] [Status: Minor Pathogen Entry] [Immunity System: FIGHTING] [Probability of Zombification: 15%]
Kael stared at the red text.
15%.
"You have got to be kidding me," he whispered.
He looked at the shop. The office door was gone. The window was open. He had 81 SP.
And he might be turning into one of them.
He needed medical supplies. He needed antibiotics. Or he needed the System to fix him.
He opened the System interface.
[Store > Consumables] [Item: Basic Antidote Injector] [Cost: 200 SP]
He was 119 points short.
Kael looked at the bodies. Then he looked at the open office door leading to the street.
To live, he had to kill. A lot more.
The red text pulsed in his vision like a warning light on a dashboard.
[Probability of Zombification: 15%] [Time until Critical Mass: 3 Hours]
Kael stared at the scratch on his chest. It wasn't deep, but the skin around it was already turning a sickly shade of purple. The veins radiating from the wound looked black under the harsh fluorescent work lights.
He felt a fever rising. A cold sweat prickled on his back.
"Three hours," he muttered.
He looked at the open doorway leading to the office. The office was compromised. The street was a war zone. If he stayed here, staring at the wall, he'd be a drooling monster by dinnertime.
He needed to secure the breach first.
He grabbed the heavy welding cart and shoved it harder against the shattered remains of the wooden door. It wasn't enough.
He looked at the [Construction] menu.
[Structure: Internal Doorframe] [Upgrade: Steel Security Door] [Cost: 40 SP]
He had 81 SP. If he spent 40, he'd have 41 left. The Antidote cost 200.
"Math doesn't work," Kael growled. He couldn't afford the door. Not if he wanted to live.
He grabbed the scrap metal sheets—the ones he hadn't used on the window—and dragged them over. He fired up the torch again.
He didn't bother with hinges. He didn't bother with a handle. He simply welded a solid plate of steel across the entire doorframe, sealing the garage off from the office completely.
Sparks showered onto the concrete. The air grew thick with smoke, but the gap was closed. The sounds from the street became muffled again.
[Makeshift Barricade Constructed] [Defense Rating: Medium] [SP Awarded: +5]
[Current SP: 86]
Kael sat down on a tire, wiping ash from his face. 86 Points.
He looked at the three bodies on the floor.
"Let's see what you had."
He knelt beside the suit-guy. He rifled through pockets with zero hesitation. The old world's taboos were gone.
Wallet: $500 cash. Usefulness: Toilet paper.
Car Keys: Mercedes. Usefulness: Maybe later.
Pocket: A silver lighter.
As he touched the lighter, a prompt appeared.
[Item Detected: Silver Zippo] [Option: Absorb for Material/Energy?] [Value: 2 SP]
"Absorb," Kael said.
The lighter dissolved in his hand, turning into blue dust that vanished into his skin.
[+2 SP]
He moved to the second zombie. Nothing. Just a pack of gum.
He moved to the jogger. She had a fanny pack. Inside was a small pepper spray canister and a protein bar.
[Item: Pepper Spray] [Grade: Common] [Keep or Absorb (1 SP)?]
"Keep." He shoved it into his pocket. A backup weapon.
On her wrist was a smartwatch. An expensive one.
[Item: High-Tech Smartwatch] [Components: Microchip, Battery, Glass] [Value: 5 SP]
"Absorb."
[+5 SP]
[Current SP: 93]
It wasn't enough. He was grinding for pennies while his life ticked away.
He coughed. The fever was getting worse. His vision blurred for a second, the blue System text doubling.
[Probability of Zombification: 18%] [Warning: Fever Spiking]
Kael stumbled back to the workbench. He grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one breath. It tasted like copper.
"System," he rasped. "I can't afford the antidote. Give me another option. How do I stop this?"
The System remained silent for a moment. Then, a new window popped up.
[ALTERNATIVE SOLUTION PROPOSED] [The virus attacks the host's cellular structure. A stronger host can suppress the invasion.]
[Attribute: CONSTITUTION (Current: 5)] [Effect: Health regeneration, poison resistance, immune system strength.]
[Upgrade Constitution: 10 SP per Point] [Warning: Increasing stats manually places strain on the body.]
Kael did the math. He had 93 SP. He could buy 9 points of Constitution.
"Will it cure me?"
[No. It will suppress the virus. It will buy time.]
"Good enough."
Kael focused on his Status Screen.
[Name: Kael] [Class: Sovereign of Construction] [Level: 1] [Strength: 6] [Agility: 5] [Constitution: 5] [Intelligence: 7]
"Put 50 points into Constitution," Kael ordered. "Make me tough."
[CONFIRMED. CONSUMING 50 SP.] [INITIATING BODY RECONSTRUCTION.]
Kael expected a ding. Maybe a sparkle of light.
Instead, he felt like he had been hit by a truck.
"AAAARGH!"
He collapsed to the floor, curling into a fetal position. Every muscle in his body seized up. His bones felt like they were vibrating. It wasn't pain—it was agony. It felt like his marrow was boiling and expanding, forcing his ribs to thicken.
He writhed on the greasy concrete, biting his tongue to stop from screaming. Blood filled his mouth.
The seizure lasted for a minute. It felt like an hour.
Then, it stopped.
Kael lay flat on his back, staring up at the dark skylight. He took a breath. It was deep. Easy. His lungs felt... bigger.
He sat up. The dizziness was gone. The fever was gone.
He looked at the scratch on his chest. The purple discoloration had receded. The blood had clotted into a hard, dark scab.
[CONSTITUTION UPDATED: 5 -> 10] [Virus Suppressed] [Probability of Zombification: 2% (Dormant)] [Current SP: 43]
He flexed his hand. The skin felt thicker. Tougher. He felt solid.
"Okay," Kael whispered. "Okay."
He wasn't dead.
He stood up and looked around his domain.
The garage was a fortress now. The roller door was [Reinforced Steel]. The internal door was welded shut. He had a [Saw-Spear]. He had 43 SP left.
But he was thirsty. And he was hungry. The protein bar from the jogger wouldn't last long.
He walked over to the mini-fridge. He opened it. Two beers. A jar of old pickles. Half a bottle of ketchup.
"Supplies," Kael said. "I need supplies."
He looked up at the skylight. It was night now. The moon was blocked by smoke from the burning city.
Through the glass, he saw the reflection of the fires burning on the horizon. The city was dying.
And he was just getting started.
[DAILY SUMMARY] [Enemies Killed: 4] [Structures Built: 2] [Attributes Gained: +5 CON] [Survival Rating: F]
[NEXT DAY OBJECTIVE: FOOD & WATER]
Kael sat on the workbench, the saw-spear resting against his shoulder. He watched the red light of the fires dance on the steel of his new gate.
"Come and get me," he said to the darkness.