The acrid stench of blood and smoke lingered in the air, mixed with the rotting tang of corpses left to decay.
Every corner she turned revealed more of the devastation: overturned cars, collapsed buildings, and scattered bones gnawed down to fragments. Yet she did not falter.
Her blade glimmered faintly, streaked with dark stains as it cut through the first zombie that lunged at her. Its head rolled to the side, bouncing once before falling still. She didn't even spare it a glance.
Ahead, a pack of mutated hounds with their skin peeled back, ribs protruding, eyes glowing with crimson hunger, snarled and rushed toward her. She met them head-on. Her movements were efficient, almost mechanical, every swing precise. Steel sang through the air, severing limbs and snapping spines. When the last beast collapsed in a heap, her breathing had not quickened, her gaze had not wavered.
