Jon stood frozen, his eyes locked on the glowing message hovering before him in the air.
A zombie.
A real, breathing—well, not breathing—zombie.
He had just killed it.
Something out of horror films and post-apocalyptic games, now lying lifeless at his feet, its grotesque form slumped unnaturally on the ground.
His heart thudded wildly in his chest, not just from adrenaline, but from something deeper. It wasn't horror. Not shock.
It was clarity, like he'd done exactly what needed to be done. And more disturbingly… it felt like an achievement.
As he stared at the corpse, something shimmered on its head, a faint light glowing right where he'd struck. Not nearly as bright as the floating message still lingering in the air, but enough to catch his eye.
Jon stepped closer, almost in a trance. He reached out slowly, and his fingers closed around it, a small orb, cool to the touch, pulsing faintly like a dying ember.
"What... is this?" he murmured.
The moment the words left his lips, a sensation hit him like a wave, a strange, foreign knowledge flooding into his mind. It didn't feel like learning. It felt like remembering something he'd never known.
Before he could question it further, his body moved on its own. A pale energy, the same hue as the orb, flowed from his palm and wrapped around the object. It shattered in a delicate burst of light, like powdered starlight scattering through the air.
The particles spun, then reformed into something solid, a scroll.
Ancient. Frayed. As if plucked from the pages of a forgotten age.
More knowledge surged into him. Instructions, mechanics, and warnings on how it was used.
Words formed in his mind like instinct, use mana.
He hesitated, then focused. The energy within him responded.
The scroll pulsed, then unfurled, glowing brighter until it dissolved into a thousand shards of light that pierced into his chest like whispers of power.
Jon staggered back, gasping. His body trembled, not from pain, but from the rush of something immense flowing into him.
Then, another message appeared:
[YOU HAVE RECEIVED QUALIFICATION TO USE A MAIN SKILL]
[YOU HAVE RECEIVED MAIN SKILL: MOON, SUN, STAR]
His breath caught in his throat. "Moon, Sun, Star?" he muttered.
But his thoughts were cut short by something very real: screams.
Jon turned his head sharply. A crowd of students, some trembling, others backing away. Their faces were pale, their eyes locked on him, wide with disbelief… and fear.
They weren't afraid of the zombies anymore.
They were afraid of him.
"H-How… how could you kill a person?" one of the student leaders—Tunde, he vaguely remembered—stepped forward, legs shaking. "Are you… Are you one of them, too?"
Jon exhaled sharply, trying to keep his voice level. "You all saw it. That thing… it wasn't a person anymore."
"But… maybe we could've brought them back!" Tunde shouted, his voice cracking.
"How?" Jon asked flatly.
Silence.
None of them had an answer. But they all wanted one—some fragile hope to hold onto. Jon understood that. But he also understood reality now. It wasn't waiting.
"Sometimes," he said quietly, "there's no way back."
He turned from the murmuring crowd, trying to push away the dissonance between what he felt… and what he should've felt.
Another message appeared, this time far more detailed:
[MOON, SUN, STAR SERIES FORCE]
[A FORCE SERIES THAT UTILIZES THE WORLD AROUND YOU AT YOUR DISPOSAL. YOU HAVE GAINED QUALIFICATION FOR THE 'MOON'. THE MOON IS KNOWN TO BE BEAUTIFUL AND IT BRIGHTENS THE WORLD AND BLOCKS THE SUN AT NIGHT. BUT THAT IS NOT ALL. THE MOON ALSO REPRESENTS: MYSTERY. DREAMS. THE UNCONSCIOUS.]
['MOON' (FIRST REALM) LEVEL 1: YOU CAN MANIPULATE CONSCIOUSNESS TO A LIMITED DEGREE. YOU ARE WITHIN THE SCOPE OF YOUR UNDERSTANDING.]
'The Moon…' Jon thought. 'Is this… what I'll be using now? My power?'
He didn't have time to think more on it.
A loud BANG jolted him back into focus.
Two of the girls who had turned, their skin now a sickly grey, eyes glowing white, were ramming their bodies into the gate that led to the lower platform. Their limbs jerked with unnatural spasms; their mouths opened in silent screams.
Worse, more figures were approaching. Shadows in the distance. Staggering. Groaning.
Zombies.
Jon turned. "We need to leave. Now."
Tunde hesitated. "Shouldn't we wait for security? They might—"
"—Be going through the same thing," a calm voice interrupted.
Everyone turned. A girl stepped forward, tall, athletic, skin glowing in the pale light. Her grey hair was tied behind her, though some strands clung to her cheeks from sweat. She was dressed in sprinter's gear, and her voice, though quiet, cut through the panic.
"Exactly," Jon said. "We can't rely on anyone. Not anymore. We move now, find others if we can, but we survive first."
Tunde looked unconvinced but didn't argue.
Jon scanned the group. Of the twelve still standing, six had fainted. The others were frozen, staring into space like they'd lost all grip on reality.
"Haa…" Jon sighed. "I'll handle the gate."
As he approached, he noticed the girl following him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm going with you," she replied. Her voice was firm, but he could see her fingers trembling. "You'll need backup."
Jon blinked. For a second, he almost stopped her. But then something clicked.
She wasn't normal anymore. Not like the others. She'd changed too.
He wasn't the only one.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Jenny. Jenny Stalwart."
"Jon Whyte."
They shared a quick nod.
"Let's do this," she said.
The gate wasn't tall—only waist height—but it served as a momentary barrier. Jon positioned himself, eyes on the closest zombie.
"I'll take the one on the left," he said. "You get the right. Aim for the head. And whatever you do, don't let it touch you."
Jenny nodded, her breathing quickening.
Jon took a deep breath, then charged.
He kicked the gate open hard. The metal slammed into the first zombie, knocking it off balance. Without wasting a second, he reached out.
A fog—bluish and cool—poured from his hand, wrapping around the zombie's body. He could feel it: the creature's weight, its twitching limbs, its unnatural hunger.
And with a snap of focus, he froze its arms in place.
"Now!" he shouted.
Jenny moved.
She brought her stick—she had found—down hard, cracking against the zombie's skull. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood splattered, and bone gave way. The creature collapsed in a heap, unmoving.
She stood over it, panting. Trembling.
Then a light—soft, gentle—rose from the corpse and shot into her chest.
She gasped as her eyes locked onto a glowing screen only she could see.
[YOU HAVE OBTAINED LEVEL 2 ZOMBIE REMAINS]
[YOUR LEVEL HAS INCREASED]
Jon turned to the second zombie, now lunging toward him. He raised his hand again, and the fog latched onto it, locking its arms mid-swing.
He stepped forward and slammed his weapon—a broken metal pump—into its skull.
Once. Then again.
The zombie dropped, lifeless.
Another screen appeared:
[YOU HAVE OBTAINED LEVEL 3 ZOMBIE REMAINS]
Breathing hard, he looked toward Jenny.
She was glowing.
Silver light surrounded her, her hair whipping in the air like caught in an invisible breeze. She stared at the scroll now floating before her and instinctively absorbed it.
The light spiraled into her chest, and she shuddered from the rush of energy.
She looked… less human now. Not monstrous—but different. Evolved.
Jon felt a chill.
'Maybe we're all becoming something else', he thought.
And whether that was good or bad…
He still couldn't tell.