Date: April 18th, 2027
Place: New York City – Lower East Side – Elias' Apartment Building
---
The morning didn't bring peace.
The sunlight struggled to pierce the smoke outside, turning the city into a haze of gray and gold. Fires still burned somewhere beyond the block. The smell of ash mixed with iron seeped through the cracks in the walls, stinging my nose.
Inside the apartment, it was colder now. Quieter. But not safe. Never safe.
I adjusted the hammer in my grip and glanced at Claire.
She stood by the door, her hands twisted in the sleeves of her hoodie. Her hazel eyes flicked to me, then back to the floor. She was pale, her shoulders stiff, but she was standing. That alone mattered.
"You don't have to come," I said quietly. "You could stay here, wait until I clear more of the building."
Her eyes snapped up at that, wide with fear—and something else. Offense.
"No," she said, firmer than I expected. Her voice wavered, but the word carried weight. "I'm not staying alone."
I studied her for a long moment. Then I nodded once.
"Stay close," I told her. "Don't wander. If something comes at us, you don't freeze. You run. And if you can't run…" I hesitated, then handed her a length of broken chair leg I'd picked up earlier. The wood was solid, splintered at the end into a crude point.
She blinked at it. "What—"
"Take it," I said. "Better in your hands than on the floor."
Her hands trembled as she reached for it, clutching the wood like it might vanish if she let go.
I opened the door.
The hallway was still. Blood streaked the carpet. The bodies from last night still lay where they'd fallen, twisted and broken. The smell hit first—sour rot mixed with the copper tang of blood.
Claire gagged softly, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
"Don't look too long," I murmured. "Just keep your eyes on me."
She nodded quickly, her gaze snapping to my back.
We moved slowly, step by step. My boots crunched faintly in the sticky carpet, every sound amplified by the silence. My grip on the hammer tightened with every corner, every door half-open.
The building was alive, but not with people. The groans drifted from somewhere above. Faint. Too faint to pinpoint.
We passed the stairwell. Blood stained the steps, dark and dried now. Claire's breath hitched at the sight, her hands tightening on the wood in her grip.
I didn't speak. Words wouldn't help.
---
We made it two floors down before the first sound froze us in place.
A low shuffle. The drag of something heavy across the carpet.
Claire pressed close behind me, her breath hot against my shoulder.
It came from the left hallway, just around the corner. A wet, guttural moan followed.
I motioned for silence, my finger pressed to my lips. Her eyes were wide, but she nodded.
I stepped forward, hammer raised. Claire stayed at my back, clutching the makeshift stake like it was her lifeline.
The corner opened into a long hall lined with doors. At the far end, a figure staggered.
It was tall, broad-shouldered, its shirt shredded, its skin mottled with gray. Its head twitched side to side, jaws snapping reflexively. Pale eyes gleamed in the dim light.
It hadn't seen us yet.
I raised the hammer slowly, exhaling through my nose.
Then the door to our right creaked.
Claire's head snapped toward it.
The sound came again—shuffling, soft sobs. Then a thud.
I clenched my jaw. Someone was inside. Alive.
But the noise carried.
The zombie's head jerked up. Its pale eyes locked onto us instantly. It shrieked, a guttural, inhuman cry, and charged.
"Back!" I barked.
It thundered down the hall, arms outstretched. I swung as it reached me, the hammer cracking into its chest. The impact sent it staggering, but not down. It roared, claws raking across my side.
[HP -6]
[Current HP: 86 / 140]
Pain seared through me. I shoved hard, bringing the hammer down again into its skull. Bone cracked, blood spraying. It collapsed at my feet, twitching once before going still.
[You have slain a Tier 1 Zombie.]
[+10 Essence absorbed.]
I exhaled sharply, chest heaving. My arms shook from the blow.
Then I heard it.
Another growl.
Two more figures staggered from the far end of the hall, drawn by the noise.
"Shit," I hissed.
Claire's breath quickened. "What do we—"
"No time," I snapped. My eyes flicked to her. "Behind me. If one gets close, you hit it. Don't freeze. Do you hear me?"
Her face went pale, but she nodded.
The first zombie lunged. I met it with the hammer, the impact shattering its jaw. It staggered, snarling, and I swung again, caving its head in.
The second charged straight for Claire.
Her scream tore through the hall as it closed in, claws raised. She stumbled back, nearly tripping.
"Claire!" I roared.
She froze for half a second, terror locking her in place. Then her eyes flicked to me—blue meeting hazel.
She gripped the wood tighter.
The zombie lunged.
She swung.
The broken chair leg drove into its throat with a sickening crunch. Black fluid sprayed, the body jerking violently. She screamed again, but this time it wasn't just fear—it was raw effort as she shoved with all her strength.
The stake punched through, the creature gurgling as it collapsed against her. She stumbled back, the weight nearly dragging her down, before Elias was there, hammer smashing into its skull to finish it.
Silence.
Her chest heaved, her arms trembling, her knuckles white around the bloodied wood. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her eyes—her hazel eyes—were steady.
She had done it.
"You did good," I said softly, my voice rough.
Her lips trembled. "I… I thought I couldn't. I thought I'd just freeze."
"You didn't." I reached out, gently prying the wood from her shaking hands. "You fought. You're still here. That's what matters."
She blinked rapidly, fresh tears falling—but this time, when she looked at me, there was something more than fear in her gaze.
There was fire. Small, flickering, but real.
---
The corpse twitched once, then went still.
Black ichor seeped into the carpet, soaking into the fibers like ink spilled across paper. The stench was overwhelming—rot and copper clinging to the back of my throat.
Claire stood frozen, her breath coming in jagged gasps, her small hands slick with gore. The broken chair leg slipped from her trembling fingers, clattering to the floor.
Then her eyes widened.
Glowing text burned into the air before her.
[You have slain a Tier 1 Zombie.]
[+10 Essence absorbed.]
[Class Assigned: Support (Medic – Common).]
She flinched backward, her shoulder hitting the wall. "Wh-what is this?!"
Her voice cracked, high with panic. Her hazel eyes darted to me, as if begging me to make sense of it.
"It's the System," I said, steady, even though I remembered the same panic in myself hours ago. "It happens when you kill one of them. You're… marked now. Changed."
Her breath came faster, tears welling again. "I can see words. They won't go away."
I crouched, picking up her fallen stake. I held it out gently. "They're real. You'll learn to use them. They'll keep you alive."
She didn't take the stake. Her hands shook violently, pressed against her sleeves.
Then her lips parted. "…It says I have a class."
That made me pause.
"What class?" I asked carefully.
She hesitated, biting her lip. The words were there in front of her, but they weren't mine to see. I realized in that moment: the System was private. Locked. It didn't show me anything unless she wanted it to.
And that choice mattered.
Her eyes flicked up to mine, wide and searching. I could see the fear there—the fear of judgment, of weakness, of what I might think of her.
I didn't push. I stayed crouched, silent, steady.
Her trembling slowed slightly. Then, with a shaky inhale, she whispered: "…I'll let you see."
The air shimmered between us.
[Claire Thompson has granted you permission to view her Status Panel.]
My HUD shifted.
---
Name: Claire Thompson
Level: 1 (Tier 1 – Awakened)
Class: Support (Medic – Common)
Secondary Class: None
HP: 80 / 80
MP: 40 / 40
SP: 70 / 70
Attributes:
- Strength (STR): 4
- Endurance (END): 6
- Agility (AGI): 6
- Intelligence (INT): 9
- Perception (PER): 8
- Charisma (CHA): 7
Free Attribute Points: 5
Class Skills:
- Minor Heal (Active Lv.1): Restore 15% HP of target. Costs 10 MP. Cooldown: 30s.
- Field Bandage (Passive Lv.1): Improvised healing items 20% more effective.
---
A Medic.
I exhaled slowly, tension easing from my shoulders. It was a fragile, common class—but one that could mean the difference between life and death in the long run.
She hugged herself tighter, her eyes fixed on the glowing words. "So I'm… supposed to heal people? I'm supposed to…" She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. "…but that means I'll have to keep fighting, doesn't it? I'll have to… kill."
I didn't answer. Not with words. Instead, I placed the stake back in her hands.
Her fingers closed around it slowly, still trembling.
"You chose to let me see," I said quietly. "That means you're not running from it. You're facing it. That matters more than the rest."
She blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"I don't want to die," she whispered.
I didn't promise her she wouldn't. I didn't repeat the same words I'd given her before.
Instead, I stood, turned toward the dark hallway, and raised the hammer again.
Actions, not words.
Behind me, Claire clutched her stake tighter.
And though her hands still shook, she followed.
---