The early morning sun crept over the horizon, casting a gold hue across the ruined city.
The streets were cracked and silent, shadows long and unsettling.
Yunfeng led the way, his shoulders tense, his hands faintly glowing with heat—ready to burn down anything that dared to step in their path.
Muchen walked a few paces behind, eyes narrowed as he squinted at the world around them.
"Why is it so empty…" he murmured under his breath, hand instinctively brushing the handle of the pistol strapped to his side. He glanced around, his unease growing. "Where do the zombies go at night?"
He couldn't stop thinking about that one zombie—the one in the stairwell. It had opened a door like it remembered how to. That wasn't normal. That wasn't mindless.
Some of these things—they were still thinking.
Still remembering.
Maybe even learning.
Muchen's grip on the gun tightened.
