"Ivan! Ivan! It's me, Lucian! Are you inside? Open the door!" Lucian shouted, his voice raw as he slammed his fist against the door. The hollow thuds echoed through the corridor, mixing with the hungry groans of the undead. Every second, the shuffling grew louder—the sound of dozens of feet scraping against the floor, closing in.
"Lucian? Wait, wait, wait—just a minute!"
Hearing Ivan's voice from inside the room sent a surge of relief through Lucian's chest. He's alive. A weight lifted from his shoulders, if only for a heartbeat. He wouldn't have been able to face himself if something had happened to Ivan. He had already lost his family once—he couldn't afford to lose more.
Lucian turned back toward the hallway. The zombies were drawing closer, their movements jerky but relentless. They were barely three meters away, and their rancid breath already hung in the air. He calculated quickly—at this pace, they'd reach him before Ivan opened the door.
No choice.
He gave a sharp mental command. The Shadow Steed let out a low snort, shadows curling around its legs like smoke before it surged forward. Its powerful hind legs slammed against the ground, sending a shockwave of air through the lot. Zombies were flung aside like rag dolls, bones cracking as the horse kicked them away with terrifying precision.
Lucian stared, half in awe, half in horror. The creature moved like a storm given form—fluid, silent, merciless.
As Lucian marveled at the horse's strength, a clicking sound came from behind him. Before he could react, an arm grabbed his shoulder and yanked him inside the room. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the noise of the undead with a heavy thud.
Lucian stumbled slightly, blinking at the dim light. Inside were four people—Ivan, and three others he didn't recognize: two men and one woman. All of them stared at him with pale, sleepless faces and wary eyes, their expressions tight with fear.
"Ivan, check him first! What if he's infected?!" the woman cried, her voice trembling.
"No worries," Lucian said, raising his hands slightly. "I can assure you I wasn't bitten or infected by any means."
Still, Ivan moved closer, giving him a quick once-over to calm the others.
"Relax," Ivan muttered. "He's clean."
Lucian scanned the room again—a cluttered dorm room turned refuge. The curtains were shut tight, but faint moonlight slipped through the gaps, painting pale lines across the floor.
"What happened here, Ivan?" Lucian asked. How could there be this many people outside at midnight? Why are they not in their own rooms? And who are these three? As far as he knew, Ivan lived alone in this dormitory.
"It's a long story. A blinding light suddenly woke us up. When it disappeared, we went out to check and found the power out—even the backup generators were dead. While we were figuring things out, someone suddenly bit another person."
He paused, his eyes clouding as he recalled the memory. "Everything went crazy after that. People screamed, some ran, others locked themselves inside their rooms. Before we knew it, the bitten started attacking the rest. I had to drag these three here before the lot got overrun."
Ivan's expression darkened as he recalled the chaos—the screams, the panic, the sight of someone turning.
Lucian frowned, absorbing every word.
"Anyway," Ivan continued, "I'm glad you're here, buddy, but seriously—what are you doing here? How did you even get in?"
Lucian sat down heavily on the bed, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. "I don't even know," he said with a weak chuckle, then groaned. His body ached everywhere. He had only slept for about an hour before being thrust into this apocalypse.
He leaned back, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll explain later, buddy. Just… let me rest first."
Ivan sighed but nodded, sitting beside him. Both stared blankly at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down in the silence.
"Had a tough night?" Ivan murmured.
"Tell me about it," Lucian groaned, thinking of the light, the zombies, the system panel, and the skill book. He wasn't sure how to start explaining things to Ivan—especially when he didn't even know if he was the only one with such abilities. He decided to tell him about it when they were alone.
"Do you want water? Food? Anything?" Ivan asked quietly.
Lucian didn't answer. His eyelids grew heavier by the second. Before long, his breathing slowed, and sleep took him.
Ivan didn't wake him. He simply sat there, watching his friend. He wondered how Lucian had even made it here. The streets outside must have been crawling with zombies, and the main gate had been locked. How did he get in? He decided to ask him when he woke up.
***
June 12, 2028 – 2:38 a.m.
Lucian was sleeping in Ivan's bed when he felt a tug on his leg.
"Lucian! Lucian! Wake up, buddy!"
Lucian groaned and opened his eyes to see Ivan's face hovering over him, filled with panic. It was strange—this was the same guy who used to laugh even when his grades were failing.
"What's wrong?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Lucian! Some kind of dark matter just went inside you! What was that?" Ivan asked, panic lacing his voice. He had seen a stream of dark energy drift into Lucian's body while he slept and was too shocked to make sense of it.
A dark matter?
Lucian blinked as realization dawned. It must have been the dark energy of the Shadow Steed returning to him. The steed must have been overwhelmed by the zombies outside and had dissolved, its essence flowing back to him, waiting to be summoned again. He hadn't recalled it—he was simply too tired to do it. He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep when he settled on the bed.
"What time is it?" Lucian asked instead, ignoring Ivan's bewildered look.
Ivan groaned. His friend really had a habit of answering questions with questions.
"It's around 2:40 a.m.," Ivan replied.
Lucian had slept for roughly two hours. Did the Shadow Steed fight on its own while I was asleep?
He opened the door slightly and peered through the crack. A faint metallic scent hit his nose—the stench of death. His eyes widened. The courtyard outside was littered with corpses.
At least three dozen zombies lay motionless on the ground, their bodies mangled. Another two or three dozen still staggered around aimlessly, drawn by the scent of blood.
The numbers increased, Lucian thought grimly. The ones from other floors must've been attracted by the noise.
Still, he couldn't help but commend the Shadow Steed for cutting down so many.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Lucian noticed something glinting beside several of the bodies—three items, each lying beside a zombie.
Lucian's lips curved into a grin. Jackpot.