June 12, 2028 – 12:37 AM, Room 302
A man was hunched over his desk, his arms resting on the table as he rubbed his knuckles against his forehead, trying to calm his scattered thoughts.
This was Lucian. When he saw the zombie, he ran back to his room without a second thought. Now, with his back pressed against the chair and his mind a complete mess, he tried to understand what was happening around him.
Thirty minutes ago, a light had shone upon him — probably the whole earth, right? He wasn't even sure anymore. Now that his mind was clearer, he could recall that the zombie he saw earlier was wearing a janitorial uniform. Someone familiar. Someone he knew.
Sir Hank.
Lucian used to nod at him every time they crossed paths. Hard not to, since he sweeps the same hall every morning. It felt strange how quickly the ordinary could turn horrifying.
His thoughts wandered toward Ayesha and Ivan. Were they safe? Hopefully, he was determined to find them as soon as he gathered enough information — but for now, he needed to prepare. He massaged his face and exhaled heavily.
Is this the end of the world?
He turned toward the window to check if the glass panels were locked tightly. He had no idea what unpredictable things could come crawling through now. When he peered out, the view that once brought comfort now sent chills down his spine. Dead people were roaming the T-way street below his dormitory.
The light had come — and after it faded, some humans became the living dead. Zombies.
What other effects did it have? Did the already dead become zombies, too? Because if they did, that would be disastrous.
Intramuros City had centuries of history — wars, revolutions, and bloodshed. Its stone walls once served as a fortress for defense in the Spanish era, and its ground was no stranger to death. Many bodies were buried inside and outside its walls. Rumors even said that beneath the schools and residences lay hundreds, if not thousands, of corpses.
But they won't be able to crawl back, right? he thought nervously. They're tens of meters below the ground. Even if that rumor's true, they probably won't become zombies.
He forced himself to look outside again. About ten of them were wandering the streets, maybe a few more. It wasn't too bad — at least, not yet. It was midnight, not the best time for people to be outside. He was almost grateful as he sat back down and stared at the moon.
It seemed dimmer now compared to how it looked a few hours ago. Was it a coincidence? Or did it have something to do with people turning into zombies? What were the conditions? Was it random?
For the first time in a very long while, Lucian felt helpless. It was such an unusual case for him — he lacked information. Everyone probably did. The world's technology, all its AIs that once gave humans instant access to infinite knowledge, suddenly meant nothing. Now, there was no data, no internet, no news. Humanity knew nothing.
And that terrified him.
He checked his cabinets earlier — not a single can of food left. The refrigerator was just as empty. What timing. He had been so sick of canned food that he stopped eating it weeks ago, and now it had come back to bite him in the ass. He wasn't prepared for this — not at all.
He wanted to rest, but how could anyone sleep when the apocalypse unfolded outside their window? The kind of doomsday scenario you only read about in novels was happening for real. The most significant difference was that in books, you could die and still read the next chapter. Here, one wrong move, and that was it. No retries.
He knew he couldn't stay idle. In a few hours, more zombies might be roaming around the dormitory, and it would be too dangerous to move. He had to act while things were still manageable — while only one zombie was on his floor.
He wouldn't sit here and wait for a rescue that might never come.
He'd look for supplies, head out to Ivan's place, and then Ayesha's.
***
Lucian was now wearing four jackets layered on each other, plus two pairs of jogging pants and a motorcycle helmet. He looked ridiculous, but better ridiculous than dead.
He looked down at the metallic sword he was holding. No, it wasn't a real sword — it wasn't sharp — but it was made of solid metal. He used to display it in his room and used it once for cosplay with Ayesha and Ivan. He'd never wanted a flimsy plastic prop, so he bought a realistic one instead. Even though it wasn't sharpened, it could still do severe damage if swung hard enough.
He smiled nervously. "Didn't expect I'd ever actually use this…"
He decided to deal with the zombie he recognized as Uncle Hank first. He remembered how slow it had moved earlier; if everything went according to plan, this would be a clean kill. With the amount of protective clothing he was wearing, he believed the zombie wouldn't be able to harm him.
Lucian opened the door carefully, making sure not to make a sound.
There it was again — Uncle Hank. Clearly dead, staggering slowly down the corridor. Lucian could see the lifeless sway of his arms, the dull, empty stare that no longer recognized anything human.
The janitor hadn't noticed him yet.
Lucian stepped out quietly, gripping his sword tightly. His heart pounded fast, sweat trickling down his neck beneath the helmet. Step by step, he inched closer — one breath, one heartbeat at a time.
Just as he raised the sword, the zombie suddenly turned toward him.
Lucian didn't give it the chance to react. He swung the blade down hard, hitting the neck. Then he struck again, and again, until the body collapsed and stopped moving.
Panting heavily, Lucian stepped back, staring at the motionless corpse.
"Sorry, old man," he muttered quietly. "But it's you or me."
He nudged the body with the sword just to make sure it was really dead. Then something unusual caught his attention — a faint black glow beside the corpse.
"What the hell is that…" he whispered.
He crouched down. Lying beside the body was a small, black book emitting a soft, eerie light.
He picked it up, and before he knew it, the book dissolved into black mist and shot straight into his forehead.
Lucian stumbled backward, shocked. "What the—?!"
His mind went blank. Then suddenly, a bluish light appeared before his eyes — a translucent screen floating in midair.
[Panel Stabilizing…]
Lines of text started appearing, arranging themselves like a digital interface. Lucian's breath caught as he realized what he was looking at — something straight out of a game.
[Lucian Morales] [Class: N/A]
[Age: 20]
[Strength: 12]
[Agility: 11]
[Mind: 14]
[Perception: 14]
[Vitality: 13]
[Skill(s): Shadow Steed (B)]
[Shadow Steed (B-Rank): Summons a steed imbued with the essence of the Shadow God. The horse moves swiftly through darkness, its body woven from shadow and mist.]
[Subskill — Shadow Veil (Passive): While riding the Shadow Steed at night, the user blends with the darkness, becoming nearly invisible unless someone focuses directly on them.]
Lucian blinked several times, his mouth slightly open.
He didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
A system panel? A skill book?
This was the kind of thing he'd only ever seen in novels and games — and now, it was right in front of him. Real.
He reached out instinctively, but the screen simply followed his gaze, floating wherever he looked.
"...You've got to be kidding me," he whispered.
Outside, the faint moans of the undead echoed through the night.
And in that darkness, Lucian Morales — gamer, dropout, survivor — had just acquired his first skill in the apocalypse.