I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the medic work on the woman before moving to the twins. After a moment, he wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Dr. Jenner, your wife's condition is stable. She just needs rest."
I froze for a heartbeat. Jenner… the scientist from the CDC? Didn't expect to run into him here. Fate's sense of irony never ceases.
Jenner nodded, gripping his wife's hand like it was his last lifeline.
The medic cleaned his hands and turned to the old captain. "Pops, the twins are stable. Scared us for a while, but they'll pull through."
The captain gave a curt nod, brushing the medic's shoulder.
The medic met my gaze briefly before stepping away.
The old captain turned to me. "Kid, can we have a word?"
I inclined my head slightly.
He gestured for me to follow. As I moved, I felt his men's eyes burning into my back.
Can't blame them—I'd stripped them of their rifles, ammo, everything.
Left them only with tactical knives.
Even if they tried an ambush, it wouldn't matter. Thirteen half-broken men weren't enough.
I wasn't boasting. Just stating facts.
The old captain indicated the couch with a tilt of his hand. I sat. He offered me a drink.
"Here, kid. Sorry, that's all we have left. Most of our supplies are gone. Hope it's fine with you."
He uncorked his own drink and drank deep.
I nodded, opened the bottle, and took a measured sip.
He smirked. "Not afraid I poisoned it?"
I met his gaze, flat and deadpan. "Don't care. Besides—if the poison hits, I'll make sure to kill you before it takes me."
The old man burst into laughter. "Bwahaha! You're a strange one, kid."
I shrugged. "Guess so."
He turned toward the window, staring at the setting sun. "Sorry about what happened at the entrance. Those boys of mine are fools sometimes. But they're good men. My sons. Don't hate them."
"It's fine," I replied evenly. "I don't mind."
He smiled faintly. "Spasibo, kid. You save our asses. I owe you—for twins. I am Vladimir Ivanov, captain of this unit."
"Madara Uchiha," I replied simply.
His brows rose.
"Chinese?"
I almost cursed out loud. What's with these people?
"No. Japanese."
"Oh, Japanese? Been a long time since I heard that. So what are you, kid? A samurai?"
I shook my head.
"A Shinobi."
He squinted.
"What's a… Shenobe?"
"Forget it, old man. You wouldn't understand. Just think of it as a ninja."
He whistled, intrigued.
"Oh? That's cool. So what, you walk on water and climb walls like that?"
I gave him a mysterious smile.
"Probably."
He chuckled and took another swig of his drink.
"Are you alone, kid?"
I nodded.
His eyes narrowed. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
He spat out his drink, cursing. "Sohnfa beetch! Seriously?!"
"Yeah," I said with a stoic face.
He wiped his mouth, massaging his temple. "How the hell… no, you're not exactly normal for a human, are you?"
I smirked slightly.
"You're not wrong."
His face went pale with shock. I almost laughed—too bad I didn't have a camera to capture that meme-worthy expression.
I leaned forward, resting my left hand on my jaw. "So… why were you trapped in that street? Where are you all from?"
Vladimir sighed, drank deep from the bottle, then set it down with a dull thud. "Before the fall, we worked as mercenaries under government orders. They pulled us out of a refugee camp here in Atlanta and told us to gather survivors—hundreds, maybe thousands. But within a week, everything collapsed. The dead tore through our defenses before we even knew what hit us."
His hands clenched around the bottle. "We fought back, tried to hold them off. But it was hopeless—like striking walls of flesh. No matter how many bullets we fired, those things kept coming, unstoppable… like monsters from hell."
He growled, knuckles white against the couch. "Thirty men I had. Thirty good men. Now… only half remain."
He looked at me, voice heavy with grief.
"Our mission was to escort Dr. Candace Jenner and Dr. Edwin Jenner to the CDC. They're the last scientists left who might find a cure. But fate's cruel, kid—damn cruel. We've been running, bleeding, dying… and the dead never stop chasing us. That's how we ended up meeting you."
He leaned closer, eyes locked on mine.
"So… what's your story, kid? And that vaccine—where did it come from? Not the military, not the government… nothing like it exists. Who—or whom—gave it to you?"
I smirked, leaning back against the couch. "What if I told you… it exists because I made it so?"
He drew a slow drag from his cigar, eyes narrowing. "Listen, kid… I'm just an old man trying to keep my people alive. I've survived enough battles to know talent when I see it—and you're beyond anything normal. Why help us? What's your goal?"
A faint smile tugged at my lips. Sharp old man—I like him. "So… what do you want? The truth, or just the facts?"
He drew a slow breath, shoulders tense. "Everything, kid… no lies. Please, understand me."
I tilt my head, giving a small shrug.
My tone hardens, eyes cutting through the smoke. "The truth is, saving you was my decision—nothing more than coincidence. The fact is, my aim is greater… to keep this world from falling apart. And believe me… I am not your enemy."
I lifted the vial, the fading light glinting across the glass. "Inside this… lies hope. A reason for humanity to keep fighting."
"But hope needs men to wield it. That's why I seek those still worth something—those who will stand. And you, old man… are one of them. The choice, however, is yours to make."
He sat motionless, the weight of the decision pressing on him. "W-why are you telling me this?"
"Because you asked," I said evenly, "and I answered."
Come on… you wanted the truth, now you sit there like stone. Guess my words hit as hard as I thought.
I rose to my full height, the room shrinking beneath my presence.
At the door, I paused, turning just enough for him to see my eyes. "You probably think I can't do it. But I can. Think carefully, old man. Goodbye."
I walked out. The door shut behind me with a heavy finality, sealing off everything we'd said.