The late afternoon sun cast long, jagged shadows across the cracked soccer field, its golden rays slicing through the skeletal remains of the high school building.
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and rust, laced with a faint, acrid tang that hinted at distant fires, a stark contrast to the tension crackling between Lin Kai's group and the five high schoolers standing before them.
Jiag Yu, the tall senior with sharp, weathered features and a tattered uniform streaked with mud, shifted his weight, the dented fire axe in his hand catching the light with a dull gleam.
His eyes, shadowed by exhaustion yet piercing with resolve, roamed over Lin Kai's assembled survivors—forty-four figures clutching makeshift weapons and wearing guarded expressions—before settling back on Lin Kai.
A faint breeze rustled the overgrown weeds, carrying an electric whisper that seemed to pulse with the earth itself, as if the world held its breath in anticipation.
Jiag Yu broke the silence, his voice a blend of weary relief and cautious admiration. "I can see your group is organized, Lin Kai. Most of you are adapting to this madness—holding together when everything's crumbling around us."
His lips curved into a tired smile, but his fingers tightened around the axe handle, a reflex honed by weeks of survival.
The weight of his words carried a subtle pride, as if he'd glimpsed a flicker of hope in their unity.
Lin Kai tilted his head, a flicker of confusion rippling through his violet eyes. The compliment felt foreign, almost undeserved, given the chaos they'd endured.
He sheathed one blade with a soft rasp, keeping the other poised, and stepped closer, his voice steady but threaded with genuine curiosity.
"Thanks, Senior. That means a lot. But what about the others besides you five? Are there more students, teachers still alive out there?"
His mind churned, conjuring images of familiar faces—classmates laughing in the halls, teachers scribbling on blackboards—hoping against the growing dread that some had survived the nightmare.
Jiag Yu's smile faded, his shoulders slumping as a heavy, shuddering sigh escaped him. He leaned on the axe, his gaze dropping to the ground where a glowing shard—jagged, faintly luminous, and embedded in the dirt—lay like a forgotten relic.
The strange light pulsed faintly, drawing Lin Kai's eye for a moment before Jiag Yu spoke, his tone low and haunted.
"The situation was the worst when this calamity crashed down on us," he began, his voice cracking with the memory.
"We started with over a hundred—students, teachers, even a janitor or two. Some accepted the reality, pitching in to scavenge food, patch wounds, stand guard. But most…"
He shook his head, a bitter edge sharpening his words. "They're paralyzed by fear, just sleeping and eating, waiting for someone to swoop in and save them. It's like they've surrendered their will to live."
Lin Kai's stomach twisted, a grimace tugging at his lips as the grim picture solidified. The thought of so many trapped in a cycle of despair clawed at him, a stark contrast to his group's relentless struggle to adapt.
He ran a hand through his hair, the bandages on his arm brushing against his skin with a faint itch, and met Jiag Yu's eyes with a determined glint.
"That's rough to hear," he said, his voice thick with empathy. "If you don't mind, my group could stay here and help turn things around. We've been out searching for survivors, strengthening ourselves with every step. Together, we might pull this place back from the edge."
Jiag Yu's face brightened, a genuine spark of hope igniting in his tired features. He straightened, the axe resting against his shoulder as he nodded with an almost boyish enthusiasm.
"That's a brilliant idea, Lin Kai. If you join us and stay, it'd be a massive help—more hands, more eyes. There's an old saying—'the more, the better'—and in this calamity, it's truer than ever. We've been clinging on by a thread; your strength could be the lifeline we need."
His voice carried a mix of relief and excitement, a rare burst of optimism breaking through the gloom.
Lin Kai felt a surge of joy ripple through him, the news of over a hundred survivors a rare beacon piercing the darkness.
But it was swiftly overshadowed by a pang of loss, the faces of schoolmates—Liu Wei with his quick grin, Miss Chen with her stern kindness—flashing through his mind, now likely dead or transformed.
So many gone, he thought, his heart clenching with guilt and sorrow. I wasn't here to shield them from this hell.
He pushed the grief down, anchoring himself in the present, and turned to Han Zhe and Jiang Lie.
"This is Han Zhe, our unshakeable foundation," he said, gesturing to the broad-shouldered man whose machete gleamed with use.
"And Jiang Lie, our steady heart," he continued, nodding to the woman whose calm presence steadied the group.
He then introduced a few others—a burly man with a crowbar named Guo, a woman with a pistol named Yan—highlighting their roles as the backbone of their unit.
Jiag Yu mirrored the gesture, stepping aside to present his team with a proud tilt of his chin. "This is Chen Li, our scout—fast on his feet," he said, indicating a wiry boy with a sharpened stick, his eyes darting like a hunted animal.
"Tang Mei, our medic—she's a miracle worker with scraps," he continued, nodding to a girl with a makeshift bandage kit slung over her shoulder, her fingers stained with antiseptic.
"Zhang Hao, the muscle—keeps us safe," he added, pointing to a broad-shouldered boy with a baseball bat, his knuckles scarred.
"And Xiao Rong, our lookout—eyes like a hawk," he finished, gesturing to a quiet girl with a knife, her gaze fixed on the shifting shadows.
Each nodded curtly, their uniforms a patchwork of stains and tears, a silent testament to their trials.
The two groups merged into a cautious procession, heading toward the hall room where the others were huddled.
The corridor stretched before them, its walls lined with faded murals of school events—graduation ceremonies and sports victories—now cracked and peeling, a ghostly echo of happier times.
A creaking floorboard groaned underfoot, the sound reverberating like a warning, while a distant clatter—perhaps a falling tile—added an edge of unease.
As they walked, Lin Kai and Jiag Yu fell into step, their conversation weaving a thread of shared survival. "We've fought through packs of corrupted," Jiag Yu said, his voice low but laced with pride.
"Chen Li spotted a nest last week—took us hours to thin them out. Tang Mei stitched us up with thread from old uniforms. Lost five that day, though—good students." His eyes darkened with the memory, a flicker of pain crossing his face.
Lin Kai nodded, his grip tightening on his blades as he shared his own saga. "I took down a gang leader yesterday—Shen Feng. Used every trick I had, speed and steel, but it nearly ended me. The corrupted swarmed after, ripping apart the dead like vultures."
His mind replayed the carnage, a shiver tracing his spine as he added, "It's a relentless grind out there."
The exchange deepened their bond, a mutual respect blooming amid the ruins, each story a brick in their newfound alliance.
As they moved, Lin Kai's eyes caught the broken relics of the school—overturned desks splintered like bones, shattered lockers hanging askew, and here and there, the crumpled forms of students, their bodies frozen in final agony, blood streaking the walls and pooling on the tiled floor in dark, congealed patches.
The sight twisted his gut, a grimace etching his face as a wave of nausea rose.
I can't fathom the terror that ripped through here, he thought,his breath hitching. Haah, alas, I was absent when they needed me most.
The weight of his absence pressed on him, a silent vow forming to honor their sacrifice by saving those still breathing.
They reached the hall room door, where a girl stood vigilantly, a large knife gripped in both hands, its blade nicked and stained with use.
Her eyes narrowed at the approaching group, relaxing only when she recognized Jiag Yu's familiar silhouette. But as her gaze landed on Lin Kai and his crew, tension snapped back into her stance, her knuckles whitening around the hilt.
Lin Kai noticed, a satisfied nod tugging at his lips. Good—she's sharp, a natural sentinel, he mused, impressed by her wariness in this broken world.
Jiag Yu stepped forward, raising a hand to ease her tension. "Lian Hua, this is Lin Kai—a friend from second year. His group's here to lend a hand. Open the door; we need to see the situation inside and check on the others." His tone was firm yet laced with a gentle reassurance, a leader's command softened by trust.
Lian Hua hesitated, her eyes flicking between Jiag Yu and Lin Kai, her breath shallow as she weighed the risk. Then, with a curt nod, she slid the heavy bolt aside, the metal scraping with a harsh groan.
The door creaked open, revealing a dim, cavernous space illuminated by a handful of flickering candles, their flames dancing in the draft.
Lin Kai's eyes widened, the sight striking him like a physical blow. The hall was a chaotic refuge, over a hundred students and teachers huddled together, their faces gaunt and hollow, some curled into tight balls as if to shield themselves from an unseen threat, others staring blankly at the walls with vacant eyes.
The air was stale, thick with the sour reek of unwashed bodies and the faint metallic bite of fear. Blankets and makeshift beds—tattered coats and torn curtains—littered the floor, a desperate nest of survival, while a cracked blackboard at the front bore a jagged row of tally marks, each stroke a silent record of endurance or loss.
A faint hum emanated from the walls, a rhythmic pulse that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards, its origin shrouded in mystery.
Lin Kai's heart thudded, a tumult of relief and horror swirling within him. So many still draw breath, he thought, his mind racing with strategies to organize, to fight, to restore hope.
But the pervasive fear in their eyes, the way they flinched at the creak of the door, painted a story of unrelenting trauma that gripped his chest.
He glanced at Jiag Yu, whose expression mirrored his own—a fragile hope battling the enormity of the task ahead.
The hall's atmosphere pressed down like a living weight, and Lin Kai knew this was no mere shelter—it was a crucible of the spirit, one they'd need to forge into strength together.
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Author's Note:
Dear Readers, I want to make u feel and experience the situation our MC is facing. I hope I am able to get within ur expectations. Let's see in next chapters what will he do, Will he just stay silent or will do something?