[ MC POV ]
After a hearty dinner, we drifted to our corners of the room. A soft knock broke the quiet.
I opened the door to find Isla standing there, her expression neutral.
"You busy? Pops wants a word," she said.
I froze for a moment.
Wait… she just spoke? She hadn't said a single word this whole time.
"Yeah… sure," I managed, trying not to show my surprise. "Give me a sec."
Sliding my blade into its sheath, I followed her down the hall.
The room she led me into was bare, abandoned—just a few scattered crates left behind. In the corner, Vladimir turned as I entered, a cigar dangling from his lips. His men lounged nearby, silent and composed. He offered me a faint smile.
"Evening, kid. Hope I didn't disturb your rest?"
"No," I said simply.
He nodded, then added, "And… thanks for the meal. It was good."
I crossed my arms, letting my gaze sweep the room. "Enough pleasantries. Why am I here, old man?"
Vladimir drew a long drag from his cigar, eyes narrowing. "The offer… we talk. You serious?"
I nodded, calm, unreadable.
Without warning, his men dropped into combat stances, knives flashing in their hands.
Vladimir stepped forward, circling slowly. "Before we join you… prove you can handle what stands before you." His gaze pierced mine, measuring. Knife steady, stance worn but deadly. "Do you dare?"
I smirked faintly, cold amusement in my eyes. I drew my blade. "Fourteen… against one. How quaint."
Vladimir chuckled, smoke curling from his cigar.
"Nah… you're a monster, kid. And it's only fair we fight together, right?"
I assumed my stance.
"Then… let's begin this dance."
Before I could react, a massive black man tackled me from behind, locking me in a vice-like grip. "Got you, brat," he sneered.
I twisted sharply, driving the back of my head into his face. He staggered, grip loosening.
A single precise kick sent him flying into the wall.
The others surged. knives flashing.
I moved with uncanny precision, each motion deliberate, a predator among prey.
One man lunged with a carambit—I caught his wrist, twisted it, and sent the knife flying. He hit the floor before he even knew what happened.
Another charged from the side; I drove my elbow into his gut, and he crashed to his knees.
It wasn't chaos—it was choreography.
I predicted their angles, blocked before they struck, exploited every gap.
Within moments, the room was a whirlwind of metal, fists, and motion, yet I remained calm, collected… untouchable.
Vladimir's men, seasoned mercenaries all, were taken aback.
Not one could land a decisive blow.
I disarmed, pinned, or incapacitated each with surgical efficiency, moving like the battlefield itself flowed through me.
Finally, I stood in the center of the room, breathing evenly, blade clean, eyes sweeping over the kneeling, battered men.
I wasn't angry. I wasn't reckless. I was proof—a storm that left no room for doubt.
Vladimir wiped the blood from his lips, letting out a dry, gravelly chuckle. "So… all of us… still not enough. You've got our respect, kid."
I smirked faintly and reached down. He clasped my hand, and I pulled him back to his feet.
The others rose one by one, their eyes clouded with unease.
"From this moment," I said, voice low but absolute, "my word is law."
The silence was absolute. Not fear. Not respect. Something heavier—inevitability.
I crossed my arms, gaze sweeping over them like a blade.
"Now, the rules are mine to set—and yours to follow."
"First—loyalty is must. Should any one of you betray the group, I will cut you down myself, swiftly and without hesitation.
Second—no mercy. To our enemies, to the dead—there will be none. The moment you choose compassion over survival, you have already chosen death.
Third—the group is absolute. No one leaves without my command. We move as one. I cannot always remain at your side, but I will set lieutenants, rules, and leaders among you.
And lastly—" my gaze sharpened, piercing through each man until none dared flinch. "—I know some of you doubt me. A child… leading hardened veterans. Then challenge me. Defeat me, and take my place. Fail…" I let the word hang like a blade. "…and death will be your only reward."
No one moved. Not a breath of defiance rose. Only grim nods of acknowledgement.
I smiled faintly. "Good."
My gaze locked on the man I wanted—the scientist, Dr. Edwin Jenner.
"You," I said, voice low, cutting through the stale air. "Jenner, isn't it?"
He nodded stiffly, shoulders taut.
Tch… look at him tremble. Do I seem so monstrous in his eyes?
"Tell me, Doctor… what is this curse that has swallowed mankind whole?"
He swallowed, throat tightening.
"…According to the classified files I've studied, this virus isn't conventional. It didn't move from person to person. It was omnipresent—air, water, soil—everywhere at the same moment, spreading across the world. No patient zero. No origin. Perhaps a weapon… perhaps an accident… or something ancient. Something we were never meant to touch."
My eyes narrowed, piercing him with my gaze. "So, you're saying it was born without origin? That it simply… is?"
Hmph. Typical. A familiar chaos… reminds me of Black Zetsu's schemes, dressed as mystery.
He faltered, lips trembling.
"Perhaps… but—"
"But what?"
His voice shrank to a whisper.
"There were reports, before everything fell. France… their laboratories. Some claimed the firsttraces came from there. They were closest to answers—but then, all communication with them vanished."
I stilled, silence stretching like a blade between us. I gave a slight nod.
"I see. Then answer me this, lastly, Doctor… why do we rise as walkers even without a bite?"
No hard feelings, Doc. Just makin' sure you feel what happenin' to Rick's crew at the CDC.
Shock rippled through the veterans.
Edwin's face drained of color.
"H-How… could you possibly know that?"
Without warning, Vladimir lunged at Edwin, pinning him hard against the wall. Rage dripped from every word.
"Ed! Answer me! What does he mean? Are we… all infected?!"
Edwin's breath hitched, words stumbling.
"...Y-yes. We're all infected. We always were. The bite isn't infection—it's acceleration. But the end comes regardless. My wife… she discovered it first. She begged me to stay silent, said panic would kill us faster than the dead. So I obeyed. I lied by omission. But the truth was always there, festering inside us."
A heartbeat of silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
Then Vladimir's fury exploded. He flung Edwin to the floor like a rag doll.
"You damned coward!" His roar cracked with grief as much as rage. "You let them die for nothing—for nothing! My sons, gone, while you swallowed your secrets!"
His fist tore into the wall, stone and plaster bursting into dust.
"You've let me down, Ed."
With his head bowed and shoulders slumped, Edwin seemed smaller than ever.
Around him, mercenaries of iron will faltered, fear carving them into something small and fragile.
Truly, I cannot fault them.
Few can endure the weight of reality without breaking. But now, they must carry the truth, whether they wish it or not.
---
Wake up to reality. Nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world. The longer you live, the more you realize that in this reality... only pain, suffering and futility exist.
—Madara Uchiha