The whole scene felt strangely split in two. Outside, Bai Li was cutting down zombies and being watched by a whole building full of panicking people. Inside, LiLi was asking little questions and waiting with the kind of patient trust only a child could manage. Both sides belonged to the same disaster, but they looked completely different. Bai Li was the one holding the line downstairs. LiLi was the one keeping a tiny piece of normal life alive upstairs. And somewhere between the two, the residents of Building 9 were still typing in the chat, still trying to bargain, still trying to hold onto whatever hope they could get their hands on.
