No speeches. No mercy.
Arjun was thrown into a large underground facility where steel corridors echoed with the sounds of combat. Survivors—men and women of all ages—trained relentlessly under armed instructors.
He learned quickly that survival wasn't about strength.
It was about control.
They taught him how zombies reacted:
• Sudden sounds drew them instantly
• Strong smells—blood, sweat, fear—made them aggressive
• Stillness confused them
He learned to move slowly, to breathe quietly, to never panic.
Hand-to-hand combat training was brutal. They practiced on restrained infected, learning where to strike, how to disable without wasting energy. Arjun threw up more than once.
Weapons training followed. Guns were scarce. Every bullet mattered.
"Blades don't jam," an instructor said. "And noise gets you killed."
Days blurred into weeks.
Sleep was short. Food was rationed. Mistakes were punished harshly.
Still, Arjun adapted.
He noticed things others didn't—how some zombies hesitated, how certain sounds pulled them faster, how some reacted slower than expected.
During one exercise, he was forced to move through a dark room with three infected inside. Others failed within seconds.
Arjun didn't.
He stayed still. Controlled his breathing. Slipped past them so closely he could smell the rot on their skin.
The instructors exchanged uneasy looks.
Later that day, a scientist, Dr. Nisha Kapoor, stopped him outside the medical wing.
"Your vitals are strange," she said. "Your heart rate doesn't spike the way it should."
"Is that bad?" he asked.
She hesitated. "I don't know yet."
That night, Captain Rudra finally told him the truth.
They stood before a large digital map. The university was marked in red.
"The lab was sealed decades ago," Captain Rudra said. "It wasn't abandoned. It was buried."
He zoomed in.
"It was part of an experimental project. Chemical weapons. Biological enhancement. The goal was soldiers who felt no fear."
"What went wrong?"
Arjun asked.
"They lost themselves."
Captain Rudra turned to him.
"The gate wasn't a rumor. Someone leaked its location."
Captain Rudra's finger hovered over the red mark glowing beneath the university icon on the digital map.
"The structure beneath your campus," he said carefully,
"was never abandoned."
The words didn't make sense at first.
Then Arjun felt it.
A sudden wave of cold surged through his body, so sharp it stole his breath. His fingers went numb. His chest tightened violently, as if something invisible had wrapped around his lungs.
"No… no, no—"
His vision swam. He staggered back, hitting the edge of the table, and gasped desperately for air.
"I can't—" he choked.
Captain Rudra reacted instantly.
"Hey! Sit down—slowly!" he barked, grabbing Arjun before he collapsed.
He forced him into a chair, kneeling in front of him.
"Breathe. Look at me. What happened?" Captain Rudra demanded, panic flashing across his face.
Arjun clutched his chest, breaths coming in shallow, broken pulls. His face had gone completely pale.
"My friends," he managed. "They… they went underground."
Captain Rudra froze.
"Underground?" he asked quietly.
"There was a tunnel," Arjun whispered, eyes wide with fear. "A hidden gate near the university. They went in at night. I thought it was a joke."
His breathing hitched.
"They never came back. And the next day…" His voice cracked. "The outbreak started."
Captain Rudra slowly stood up.
"You didn't know what was down there," he said carefully.
Arjun shook his head. "No. I swear. I thought it was just some stupid rumor."
Captain Rudra turned toward the screen again, pulling up older satellite scans and sealed infrastructure maps. His jaw tightened as layers of hidden structures appeared beneath the campus.
"…Damn it," he muttered.
Arjun noticed the change in his expression.
"What is it?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice.
Captain Rudra didn't answer right away.
"That area was sealed decades ago," he finally said. "No public records. No access routes."
Arjun swallowed hard. "So my friends… opened something?"
"Yes," Captain Rudra replied grimly. "Something that was never meant to be touched."
Silence fell between them.
Arjun's hands trembled. "So it's my fault," he whispered. "If I hadn't dared them—"
"No," Captain Rudra snapped, spinning around. "Listen to me."
He stepped closer.
"This wasn't an accident. The tunnel's existence shouldn't have been known at all."
Arjun looked up. "What do you mean?"
Captain Rudra zoomed out on the map. Red markers appeared—spreading too evenly, too deliberately.
"The infection didn't spread like a random outbreak," he said. "It followed human movement. Roads. Towns."
Arjun's throat went dry.
"You're saying someone planned this."
"Yes," Captain Rudra said. "And your friends were the trigger."
The words cut deep.
Arjun squeezed his eyes shut. Memories flooded back—his laughter, his mockery, his certainty that they were idiots.
Tears slipped down his cheeks.
"I should've stopped them," he whispered.
Captain Rudra's voice softened slightly. "You couldn't have known."
Arjun looked up, eyes burning.
"Then I'll make it right," he said. "However I can."
Captain Rudra studied him for a long moment.
"There's something else," he said slowly. "You were exposed. Closer than most. Yet you're here."
Arjun stiffened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you don't react like others," Captain Rudra replied. "Your fear response is different. Your survival instincts are sharper."
A low, distant groan echoed faintly through the facility.
Arjun clenched his fists.
"If whatever started this came from under my university," he said quietly,
"then I won't run from it."
Captain Rudra nodded once.
"Good," he said. "Because this war began there… and it's far from over."
Captain Rudra stood before a long steel table, surrounded by men and women in uniform. Their faces were hard, tired—people who had been losing a war since it began.