The dusty wind swept through the ruined streets of Los Angeles as the armored vehicle idled beside the wreckage.
Danny gritted his teeth, staring at the man in front of them. "Sorry," he said at last, voice tight. "We don't need to go to your shelter."
Ethan didn't even look at him. He just shifted the sub-machine gun in his grip and turned to Elsa. "And what about you?"
Yana, standing behind her, trembled slightly. Danny stayed silent. In this small group, Elsa's word was final.
She took a slow breath. "What if we refuse?"
Ethan's expression didn't change. "Then you won't last another hour. This world doesn't ask for your opinion. I'm not here to discuss—I'm here to inform."
He wasn't just confident—he radiated control. Elsa could tell he'd already decided what would happen next.
Her instincts screamed danger, but with only revolvers against his armor and gun, they were outmatched. Still, she wouldn't hand over her freedom so easily.
"Fine," Elsa said suddenly, her voice calm. "I'll go."
"Captain—!" Danny took a step forward, eyes wide.
Yana's lips parted, confused and scared.
Ethan's brow lifted slightly. He hadn't expected her to agree so fast. There was something in her eyes—too steady, too deliberate.
"Then get in," he said, patting the armored car.
Elsa glanced once at her team. Then, handing her revolver to Danny, she stepped forward.
She moved like lightning.
In one heartbeat, she lunged. Her movements were fast—trained reflexes from years in the force. The baton at her side flashed as she swung for his wrist.
But Ethan was faster.
He stepped aside, deflecting her strike with the barrel of his weapon, then countered with a brutal punch and a kick in the same motion. The double strike broke her guard and sent her stumbling back.
Her arms ached from the impact. His strength… it's inhuman.
"Captain!" Danny aimed his revolver, but Ethan turned his gun toward him before he could even pull the trigger.
At that range, there was no contest. Danny froze, jaw tight, and slowly lowered his weapon.
Elsa clenched her fists, frustration burning behind her eyes.
Ethan sighed. "I warned you not to make this harder. But… I'll give you one last chance. Come quietly, and I'll let your friend walk away."
She looked at Danny and Yana. Both were terrified—too young, too shaken. There was no way they could win this fight.
"…Fine," Elsa said finally. Her voice was low. "I'll go with you. Just leave them out of it."
Ten minutes later, the black Saber-Tiger armored car rumbled down the broken road.
Inside, silence reigned.
Ethan sat at the wheel, calm as ever, the gun resting across his lap. He tossed a bottle of water back toward Yana. "Drink. You'll need it."
Yana hesitated, then took a sip before passing it to Elsa.
Her hands were cuffed behind her—not by Ethan, but by her own choice. She'd asked Yana to do it, to keep up the illusion of submission until she could plan her next move.
Danny had been left behind, furious but alive.
The vehicle tore through abandoned cars and reached a deserted hospital on the edge of the city. Ethan opened the door, stepped out, and with a few precise bursts from his weapon, cleared a path through the scattered infected.
Elsa watched him fight. Every shot was perfect—controlled bursts, no wasted motion. Who is this guy? she wondered. He looked barely older than twenty, yet moved like a veteran.
A few minutes later, they reached his so-called "shelter"—a fortified three-story building surrounded by barricades.
At the gate, a young woman hurried out. She dropped to one knee the moment she saw Ethan. "Boss, you're back. The others are waiting upstairs."
Elsa stiffened. Boss?
Ethan only nodded, brushing past.
Inside, the place was organized, fortified, and disturbingly quiet. Too quiet.
On the second floor, a girl with pale skin and short brown hair appeared at the stairwell. Her leg was bandaged, but she moved quickly.
"Ethan! You're back!" she said, relief flooding her face.
Her name was Rachel—Elsa caught it when the woman downstairs called out. She looked at the two new arrivals curiously.
"These are newcomers," Ethan said. "You'll show them around. Make sure they understand the rules."
Rachel hesitated but nodded. "Understood."
Elsa's eyes narrowed. Rules? What kind of place is this?
Ethan turned toward her. "You wanted safety," he said simply. "Now you have it. How you survive from here… depends on whether you can follow orders."
Elsa didn't respond.
But in her mind, she made a silent promise—You may control the guns and walls for now, Ethan… but the day will come when I take them back.
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