Aurora woke up to sirens.
Not the kind that faded after a few secondsthese screamed.
Long. Unrelenting. Violent.
She blinked against the motel's thin curtains. A sliver of orange-red sunlight peeked in, and beneath it—smoke.
In the distance, plumes of it rising. People running in the streets. The news on the motel TV flashing bold red banners:
> "BREAKING: Violence and Unidentified Illness Spread in Downtown Unity."
"...authorities urge citizens to stay indoors…"
"...footage of erratic individuals attacking passersby…"
"...no official statement from Unity Hospital yet…"
Aurora sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and calmly brushed the sleep from her eyes.
Right on time.
Her fingers hovered over her phone, where she'd set her apocalypse timeline:
Day 1 - The Spark
Outbreak begins. First zone: Unity Hospital. Panic spreads. Infection count doubles every 6 hours.
She grabbed her go-bag.
Inside: canned food, portable stove, water purifier, bandages, hand-stitched maps, extra knives, and a solar-charged power bank. All of it carefully packed in the last three days.
She'd moved in silence, while the world laughed, partied, and kissed under fairy lights.
But now?
Now the world screamed.
---
Outside, the air was chaos.
A woman dashed past her motel's entrance, covered in blood—screaming into a phone. A man chased after her, stumbling, mouth agape, eyes glazed like fogged glass.
He leapt.
Aurora didn't stop to watch the result.
She ducked into the alley behind the building and pulled up her hoodie. She didn't need recognition right now. Her family would be looking for her. Serah would be crying in Mom's arms. Caleb would try to find her, apologize, smooth things over.
Let them try.
She had bigger things to worry about.
Like the fact that this city would become a graveyard in less than three days.
She passed three police officers in riot gear trying to barricade a street with orange cones. They were yelling orders. Guns drawn. Sweating. Two of them were already shaking—one had a bloody sleeve.
It was already too late for them.
She kept walking.
---
Ten miles north.
An old convenience store stood on the corner of an intersection. Windows half-broken. The door hanging open. No alarm.
Aurora stepped inside.
There were two bodies on the floor.
A woman in her 40s, half her throat missing. And beside her—what was once a teenage boy, twitching unnaturally.
The moment her boots touched the tiles, the boy jerked.
It hissed.
Aurora didn't hesitate.
She kicked the shelf beside her. A can of soup clattered across the floor, distracting the infected for a second.
That was all she needed.
One step.
Two steps.
CRACK.
Her crowbar slammed into his temple with all the force she could summon.
Again.
CRACK.
Blood splattered. Bones cracked. The boy twitched once more—and went still.
Aurora stood over him, breathing hard.
> [Kill Count: 2]
[Perk Unlocked: Silent Step — Your footsteps make no noise when stalking prey.]
[Evolution Progress: 4%]
She didn't smile this time.
This one had been a kid.
Her chest clenched—but she didn't let herself stop. She moved fast, sweeping the store for what she needed: batteries, snacks, a half-burned map, antiseptic, painkillers.
She wasn't just surviving now.
She was stocking for war.
---
By midday, the streets were on fire.
Looters smashed windows. Blood ran in gutters. Fires burned in pharmacies and gas stations.
From a rooftop in the industrial zone, Aurora stood watching the city collapse. Smoke curled like tendrils into the sky, blotting out the sun.
Below her, the world cried.
She could hear it—screams that broke off mid-breath. Car alarms blaring. Helicopters slicing through the smoke like vultures.
But she?
She was calm.
This was the part where most people fell apart.
But not her.
She'd already done this once. She'd watched the world crumble. She'd been on her knees, shivering, blood-soaked, praying for death.
She had already broken.
Now she was steel.
And nothing could bend her again.
---
She was halfway through reviewing her scavenged supplies when she heard footsteps behind her.
Fast. Heavy. Ragged.
She spun around just in time to see a figure burst through the rooftop door—covered in sweat and blood, eyes wide with desperation.
A guy. Maybe 20. Tall, athletic, dressed in an unzipped hoodie and jeans. But it was the look in his eyes that caught her.
Panic.
Real, raw panic.
"Don't shoot!" he gasped, holding up his hands. "I'm— I'm not infected!"
Aurora didn't lower her crowbar. "Prove it."
He staggered forward, panting. "I just… I've been running for hours. I— My sister, she didn't make it. I thought this place was empty—"
"Infected don't talk this much," she muttered, finally easing her grip.
He collapsed against the wall, sliding down into a crouch. "Name's Jace," he muttered. "You?"
She hesitated.
Then, slowly, she turned back to the skyline.
"Doesn't matter," she said. "You won't be around long."