he perimeter alarm went off at 3:17 AM.
Through three hundred and forty-nine connections, I felt it simultaneously: something had crossed into my territory from the east. Not a zombie—the movement was too deliberate, too purposeful. And whatever it was, my horde was tracking it.
I was at the window before the second alarm pulse.
Master, Ghost's voice cut through the dark. Something approaches. Not dead. Not alive the way humans are alive. Something... else.
I reached out with my Death Aura, pushing past my perimeter sentries toward the disturbance. There—at the edge of my range—a presence that burned with energy I hadn't felt since my original timeline.
An awakened.
I was out of the room and moving toward the compound entrance before I fully registered the decision. Behind me, Min-Tong Lin stirred in her sleep three doors down. Her heartbeat—steady, alive, present—was a reminder of everything I'd fought to protect.
She was still alive. Day 3 had come, and she was still alive.
But whatever was approaching could change that in an instant.
------------------------------
The presence vanished before I reached the gate.
One moment it was there, burning at the edge of my Death Aura like a beacon. The next—gone. As if it had never existed.
I stood in the courtyard, surrounded by the silent ranks of my horde, staring into the darkness. Ghost materialized at my ankle, her golden eyes tracking the shadows.
It left, she observed. When it sensed master approaching.
"It wanted to be noticed," I said. "It was testing our response time."
Testing for what purpose?
I didn't answer. But I knew what it meant.
Someone was watching. Someone with power. And they'd just announced themselves.
I didn't sleep for the rest of the night. Not because of the strain—though three hundred and forty-nine connections still hummed at the edge of my consciousness like a constant headache. And not because of the mysterious intruder—though their presence lingered in my thoughts like a warning.
I didn't sleep because of her.
Min-Tong Lin was alive.
In my original timeline, she would have been dead within twenty-four hours. Running toward danger instead of away from it, trying to save strangers who would never know her name.
But here, now, in this new timeline I was writing with every breath and every decision—she was sleeping in a room three doors down, her heartbeat a steady presence in my Death Aura.
Alive.
I sat by the window and watched the darkness, and for the first time in ten thousand years, I felt something that might have been hope.
------------------------------
Dawn broke over a changed compound.
In two days, we'd gone from nine survivors to thirty-one. Max Yang had worked miracles with the space, converting every available corner into sleeping quarters, storage, or work areas.
Harold Chen had gotten the generator running at full capacity. Dr. Vasquez had set up a proper medical station. Liu Feng was still on roof watch—I was beginning to think he preferred it up there, away from the zombies he couldn't stop fearing.
And at the center of it all, Vanguard stood motionless.
My first Elite had attracted significant attention. The other survivors gave it a wide berth, their eyes tracking its every micro-movement with poorly concealed terror.
But they didn't run. They'd seen what I could do. They knew Vanguard was under my control.
Fear was giving way to something more useful: trust.
------------------------------
"You haven't slept."
Min-Tong's voice came from behind me. I turned to find her standing at the edge of the courtyard, a cup of something steaming in her hands.
"Neither have you," I said.
"Tried. Couldn't." She walked over and handed me the cup. Tea. Weak, probably the last of someone's personal stash, but warm. "Too much to process."
I accepted the cup but didn't drink.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Just after eight. Why?"
"No reason."
But there was a reason. In my original timeline, Min-Tong had died at 2:47 PM on Day 3. I knew because I'd found her body—three days later, when I finally tracked her down. The building had collapsed at 2:47 PM. She'd been crushed under the rubble while trying to free a trapped child.
The child had died too.
Now it was 8 AM on Day 3. Six hours and forty-seven minutes until the moment that had haunted me for ten thousand years.
And she was standing right in front of me. Alive.
"You're doing it again," Min-Tong said.
"Doing what?"
"Looking at me like I'm going to disappear."
I forced my gaze to soften.
"Sorry. Old habits."
"Old habits from ten thousand years of thinking I'm dead." She said it matter-of-factly, but I could hear the tremor beneath. "That's going to take some getting used to."
"For both of us."
------------------------------
The morning passed in organized chaos.
Max Yang had implemented a work rotation: scavenging teams, guard shifts, maintenance duty, food preparation. Everyone contributed, even the children—Tommy had been assigned as "runner," carrying messages between groups.
Mrs. Chen and Lily Wong had integrated surprisingly well. Mrs. Chen turned out to be an excellent cook, stretching the compound's rations further than anyone thought possible. Lily had gravitated toward Harold, helping with electrical work and proving herself surprisingly handy with tools.
Min-Tong, naturally, had taken on a medical role alongside Dr. Vasquez.
"She's good," Dr. Vasquez admitted grudgingly when I passed by the medical station. "Better than I expected for someone without formal training."
"She had training," I said. "In another life."
Dr. Vasquez looked at me with that sharp, analytical gaze she always wore.
"You mean your other timeline."
"I mean she was a nurse before everything happened. In this timeline." I paused. "In my original timeline, she became much more. The survivors called her 'The Saint.'"
"The Saint?"
"She saved more lives than anyone I ever knew. Walked into impossible situations. Never asked for recognition. Never asked for anything." I watched Min-Tong through the medical station's window, her hands gentle as she wrapped a bandage around a survivor's arm. "She was the best of us."
"And you loved her."
"I still do."
Dr. Vasquez was quiet for a moment.
"She's lucky," she said finally. "To have someone who traveled ten thousand years to save her."
"I'm the lucky one," I said. "I got a second chance."
------------------------------
At noon, I gathered the inner circle.
Max Yang. Dr. Vasquez. Harold Chen. And now, Min-Tong Lin.
We met in the compound's main building—a small conference room that had probably hosted mundane meetings about inventory and scheduling in the before-times.
"Status," I said.
Max Yang checked her notes. "Thirty-one survivors. Food for two and a half weeks at current rationing. Water's stable thanks to the rain collection system Harold set up. Morale is..." She hesitated. "Complicated."
"Complicated how?"
"They're grateful to be alive. They're terrified of your zombies. They're not sure whether to see you as a savior or a monster." She met my eyes. "Most of them are landing somewhere in between."
"Good. That's honest. What about external threats?"
"Nothing immediate. Your patrols have cleared a three-block radius. Liu Feng reports no significant zombie movement from the roof."
"And the Tier 2?"
"Vanguard has been... unsettling, but stable. No incidents."
I nodded. "The battle yesterday will have drawn attention. Not just from zombies—from other survivors. Anyone watching from a distance would have seen an army of the dead following a single man."
"You think someone's watching?"
"I know someone is." I tapped the table. "In my original timeline, the first week after the outbreak was chaos. Survivors scattered, isolated, focused on personal survival. But by the second week, factions started forming. Some were cooperative. Others... weren't."
"Factions?" Dr. Vasquez leaned forward. "You mean organized groups?"
"Criminal gangs who saw opportunity in the collapse. Military units that went rogue. Religious groups that interpreted the apocalypse as divine judgment." I paused. "And awakened. People like me, who developed powers in the aftermath."
"Other people can control zombies?"
"No. My power is unique—at least it was in my original timeline. But there are other abilities. Fire manipulation. Enhanced strength. Precognition. Healing." I looked at Min-Tong. "In my original timeline, you were one of them."
Her eyes widened. "Me?"
"The Saint's Blessing. You could heal injuries with a touch. Nothing miraculous—you couldn't bring back the dead or regrow limbs—but cuts, infections, broken bones... you could accelerate healing by days or weeks."
"I don't... I don't feel anything like that."
"Powers typically manifest within the first week of exposure to the virus. You haven't been exposed long enough." I smiled slightly. "Give it time."
------------------------------
At 2:30 PM, I was standing on the roof.
Seventeen minutes until the moment that no longer meant anything.
Liu Feng was at his usual post, staring out at the city with hollow eyes. He flinched when I approached.
"Mr. Wei. Is everything—"
"Everything's fine." I moved to the roof's edge and looked out at Seattle.
The city was a ruin. Smoke still rose from a dozen locations. The streets were littered with abandoned cars and bodies that hadn't risen. And in the distance, I could hear sounds that might have been screams.
But from up here, it almost looked peaceful.
Liu Feng shifted uncomfortably.
"Can I ask you something, Mr. Wei?"
"Go ahead."
"Why did you come back?"
I glanced at him.
"I mean—" He fumbled. "You said you lived ten thousand years. You saw everything, experienced everything. Why would you choose to live through it again?"
I thought about the question.
In truth, I hadn't chosen to come back. The return had happened to me, not been initiated by me. One moment I was dying—finally, truly dying—and the next I was waking up in my apartment, seven days before the end of the world.
But if I had chosen?
"Because the first time, I lost everything," I said. "Everyone I cared about. Every dream I had. Every hope for the future." I looked back at the city. "The second time, I have a chance to keep some of it."
"And if you can't?"
"Then at least I tried."
Liu Feng was quiet for a long moment.
"I think that's braver than anything I could do," he said finally.
"It's not brave. It's desperate." I smiled without humor. "There's a difference."
------------------------------
At 2:47 PM, I was standing outside Min-Tong Lin's room.
Inside, she was resting—finally sleeping, the exhaustion of the past two days catching up with her.
I stood there for exactly one minute. Listening to her breathe. Feeling her heartbeat through my Death Aura.
Alive.
At 2:48 PM, I walked away.
In another timeline, this moment would have been marked by her death. By collapse and screaming and the weight of rubble crushing a woman who deserved to live.
In this timeline, she slept peacefully in a fortified compound, protected by three hundred and forty-nine zombies and the most dangerous man in Seattle.
I'd changed the future.
I'd saved her.
And I had no idea what would happen next.
------------------------------
The radio crackled to life at sunset.
We'd been using it for local communication—short-range handhelds for the guard posts, a larger base unit that Max Yang monitored. So far, we'd heard nothing but static on the broader frequencies.
Until now.
"—repeat, this is a message for the controller. We know you're out there. We've seen your army. We want to talk."
The voice was male, calm, distorted by static but clear enough.
Max Yang looked at me.
"Controller," she repeated. "They're talking about you."
I moved to the radio, my mind racing.
In my original timeline, no one had identified me this early. I'd spent weeks building my power in secret before revealing myself to the broader survivor community.
Someone had been watching. Someone had figured out what I was doing.
And they wanted to make contact.
I picked up the handset.
"This is Wei. I'm listening."
Static crackled. Then:
"Wei. Good. We've been watching you since Day 1. Your compound. Your zombies. That thing you did yesterday with the evolved one."
"Who is 'we'?"
A pause.
"We're survivors. Same as you. But we have resources you don't—vehicles, weapons, communications equipment. And we have something else."
"What's that?"
"Another awakened. Someone who can help you."
I exchanged a look with Max Yang.
"Help me how?"
"The evolved zombies are just the beginning," the voice said. "Day 5, something bigger wakes up. Something that makes your Tier 2 look like a puppy. We've seen it in... call it a vision."
My blood went cold.
"A precog," I breathed. "You have a precognitive."
"Something like that. They say you're important, Wei. They say you're the difference between survival and extinction. But only if you're not alone."
The radio crackled with static.
"Meet us at the Olympic Sculpture Park. Noon tomorrow. Come alone or bring an army—your choice. But come. Before it's too late."
The transmission ended.
I stared at the radio for a long moment.
Day 5. Something bigger.
In my original timeline, Day 5 had been bad. Very bad. But I didn't remember anything specific—no single event that stood out above the general horror.
Either my presence had changed things. Or this precog knew something I didn't.
Either way, I had a choice to make.