The world ended on a day like any other.
Marcus sprinted down the once familiar streets, now in the grip of chaos. Abandoned cars cluttered the road, their horns blaring uselessly into the dusty afternoon air. People ran in all directions, some screaming for help, others attacking each other in frenzied panic. The sky was tinged with an eerie red hue, a reminder of the catastrophe sweeping across the country. Just a few hours ago, everything had been normal. He had been normal.
Then the news broke.
It started like any other viral headline: "Breaking News! : Unexplained Violent Outbreaks Across the Country."
At first, it was just contained random acts of aggression, riots erupting without cause in major cities. Marcus had seen the videos circulating online, each one more horrifying than the last: people attacking others with mindless rage, their eyes glazed over, faces twisted with unnatural hunger. Experts on TV scrambled for explanations ranging from terrorism, a new virus, or even mass hysteria.
But then came the terrifying footage of people eating each other.
The infected with rapidly decaying bodies, moving with jerky, unnatural motions, biting and tearing at flesh. The reality of it hit Marcus like a truck. This wasn’t some elaborate hoax. It was real. It was happening.
And now, it had reached his city.
The only thought in Marcus's mind was to get home. Sarah. He needed to make sure she was safe. Everything around him was descending into madness, but as long as they were together, they could figure this out. They had to.
He reached his apartment building, out of breath, his mind racing. The streets were empty...too empty, and the air was thick with tension. Something was wrong. The faint sounds of shouts and crashes echoed in the distance, but here, it was too quiet.
As Marcus pushed open the door to his apartment, his heart sank. The door wasn’t fully closed which was unlike Sarah as she would never leave their door open. No. His pulse quickened. Those things couldn’t have gotten here already, could they?
He tiptoed toward the bedroom, his breath caught in his throat. Voices. He could hear muffled voices. At first, he thought maybe Sarah had barricaded herself in, but as he reached the door, the laughter that drifted out stopped him cold. It wasn’t the terrified sound of someone hiding, it was... intimate.
Marcus's hand trembled as he pushed the door open. His heart pounded in his chest, fear and confusion twisting together. But what he saw was worse than any nightmare.
Sarah was in bed, tangled in sheets, her body pressed against Eric’s, Marcus’s best friend.
The betrayal slammed into him like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of his lungs. His vision blurred with disbelief. How? How could this be happening now, of all times? His chest burned, not from the chaos outside, but from the betrayal inside this room.
"Marcus..." Sarah’s voice was cold, almost indifferent. She didn’t even bother to cover herself. Eric smirked, sliding out of the bed as if nothing were wrong.
“You picked a hell of a time to come home, buddy,” Eric said, his voice laced with smug arrogance. "But hey, survival of the fittest, right?"
Marcus’s fists clenched, his emotions spiraling between betrayal and rage. “What the hell is this?”
Before Sarah could answer, a loud crash echoed through the apartment. All three of them whipped their heads toward the living room as the sound of splintering wood and guttural growls grew closer.
Eric's face paled as realization dawned. Was one of those things actually here?
“Oh, God,” Sarah whispered, fear creeping into her voice. She clutched the bedsheets, eyes wide.
Eric didn’t hesitate. His survival instinct kicked in, and without warning, he shoved Marcus hard in the chest. “Deal with it!” he yelled, using the momentum to push Marcus out of the bedroom and toward the oncoming threat.
Marcus stumbled back, his body colliding with a chair in the living room just as the door burst open completely. A figure lurched through the doorway, an infected, its skin hanging loose, eyes vacant and hungry. It let out a chilling growl, charging straight toward Marcus.
Eric grabbed Sarah’s wrist and dragged her toward the back of the apartment, leaving Marcus between them and the undead.
“Eric! Sarah!” Marcus shouted, but they didn’t stop. They ran, abandoning him without a second thought.
As the zombie lunged at him, Marcus barely had time to react. His hands shot up instinctively, but the force of the zombie’s weight knocked him to the ground. They tumbled together, rolling across the floor, Marcus’s heart pounding as he fought to keep the creature’s snapping jaws away from his face.
I’m going to die.
The zombie’s decayed teeth gnashed inches from his throat. Marcus struggled to push it off, adrenaline flooding his system. His hand brushed against something solid, the leg of a nearby chair. Desperately, he grabbed it, swinging with all his might.
The chair connected with the zombie’s head, but it wasn’t enough. The creature kept coming, its rotting hands clawing at his arms. Marcus hit it again, harder this time, but the force of its bite was too fast. Its teeth sank into his forearm, pain flaring through him.
Marcus screamed, he suddenly felt as if someone lit his veins on fire and his blood had become lava. He shoved the zombie back, his mind clouded with the terror of what was happening to him. With a final, desperate effort, he swung the chair once more, smashing its edge into the zombie’s skull. The creature finally fell, its body going limp as it collapsed to the floor.
Marcus collapsed against the wall, cradling his bleeding arm. His breath came in ragged gasps. The room spun as the reality of the situation set in.
Is this where I die?
His thoughts became foggy, the edges of his vision darkening. He could feel the virus coursing through his veins, his body growing weaker by the second.
His eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion overwhelmed him, and just before everything went black, a single thought crossed his mind: Am I going to become one of them?
Marcus awoke to a strange, cold sensation running through his body, and then something else, something mechanical, but not a voice. A presence. It felt like his consciousness had tapped into something new, something... powerful.
-Congratulations. You have successfully survived the infection and evolved!
The words seemed to materialize in his mind, strange yet oddly reassuring. Evolved? His thoughts were fuzzy, his body heavy, but he felt like he could run around all day and not get tired. For someone who has just been at this point of death this wasn't normal but the energetic feeling he was experiencing right now didn't feel like an illusion. The infection hadn’t killed him. It had... changed him.
-Reward: 100 XP for slaying one zombie. You have received: 1 Gene Crystal (Spatial).
Level up!
Marcus’s head spun as the system, or whatever this presence was, continued. A translucent crystal appeared in his mind's eye, shimmering with a strange energy.
-Would you like to begin assimilation of the Spatial Gene?
He blinked, still half-convinced he was dreaming. What is this? But after everything, after the betrayal, after fighting off a zombie with his bare hands...well not exactly his bare hands but a chair wasn't much of a weapon. Either way, he was willing to accept anything at this point.
With a thought, he accepted.
The moment he did, his body was wracked with a new sensation. His muscles tensed as a surge of power coursed through him. He could feel his cells changing, adapting, growing stronger.
Then it came.
A head splitting migraine that made him instantly collapse to the floor as he shook like a seizure prone patient.
The pain was overwhelming, but beneath it, there was something else, a cleansing. The rest of the infection was burning away, replaced by something new, something more powerful.
Sweat poured down his face as his skin tingled, and he felt a strange heat building under the surface. Then, the dirt, dark, greasy filth began seeping out of his pores, as if his body was purging itself of impurities.
When the sensation finally subsided, Marcus gasped for air, feeling lighter and even stronger than a few moments ago. His muscles were taut, his senses sharper than before. He flexed his hands, feeling the power coursing through them.
-Assimilation complete.
The presence returned, this time offering more than just strength.
-You have received your first ability: Spatial Blades.
Marcus stared at his hands, and with a thought, thin, razor-sharp blades shimmered into existence around him, each one crafted from the very air itself. They hovered for a moment before disappearing with a flicker of his will.
The ability seemed to come to him on an instinctual level. How that works, Marcus had no idea but it was clear that the world was changing.
The world might have ended, but Marcus’s new beginning had just started.
Marcus stepped out of the bathroom, steam swirling behind him as he wiped the last droplets of water from his face. The grime and filth that had seeped from his body earlier were now washed away, leaving his skin feeling fresh and clean. The strange, almost euphoric high that had gripped him during the transformation had subsided, but the sense of renewal still lingered. His muscles, sore from the recent battle, now only ached faintly, as if the worst of the strain had been purged along with the dirt. He inhaled deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs more fully than before, as though his body had been reset. The infection that had threatened to overtake him was gone, but the changes it left behind were undeniable. He caught his reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink—a face he barely recognized anymore. His skin, once pale and sickly, now had a healthier glow, and his eyes, sharper and more alert, seemed to gleam with an intensity he hadn’t seen before.Then the screen popped
He glanced out through his window and caught sight of several infected roaming the street below. The eerie silence was occasionally broken by distant groans and shuffling feet. Marcus exhaled, grabbed his backpack, and moved toward the door.The hallway outside was eerily quiet. Marcus paused for a moment, listening intently for any movement. Nothing. He started down the stairs, taking care to make as little noise as possible. His thoughts were a jumble—his family, this infection, and whatever strange power had just been bestowed upon him. As he reached the ground floor, Marcus froze. A figure stood near the entrance, hunched over and twitching. His stomach sank as he recognized her—the building’s caretaker. She had always been unpleasant, quick to snap at residents over petty issues. Still, she didn’t deserve this fate.Her skin had taken on a pale, sickly hue, and her eyes, once sharp and judgmental were now clouded and dead. The infected caretaker suddenly let out a low growl, her
Marcus took a deep breath as he stepped outside, the chaos of the city now in full view. Smoke filled the air from burning cars, and the distant screams of panicked civilians echoed through the streets. It was a scene out of a nightmare—total anarchy. People were running, some trying to fight the infected, while others fled in desperation. The infected themselves were relentless, lunging at anyone in sight, their grotesque forms an all too horrifying reminder of what awaited anyone who failed to escape.Marcus’s eyes scanned his surroundings, his mind racing. He needed a plan. His first thought was simple: gather supplies. He couldn’t survive on just the clothes on his back, and the spatial pocket he had was a godsend in this situation. A quick inventory check showed he still had some basic items, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He needed food, water, and most importantly, a weapon, something reliable that didn’t drain his Aether. After his earlier fight, Marcus was acutely aware of his
He stood there for a moment, adrenaline still pulsing through him, the weight of the axe familiar in his hands. He was stronger now, faster too. The infected man would’ve overwhelmed him before. But now… now he could take their heads off. As gross as it looked...it felt good."Okay," he whispered to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I can do this."The reality of the situation was becoming clear to him—this was his life now. Every encounter with the infected would be life or death. He couldn’t rely on his spatial blades for every fight, not with how much they drained him. The fire axe was a crude solution, but for now, it would do.With the infected man dealt with, Marcus made his way toward the exit. Outside, the city was still in chaos, but he had a plan now. He needed to keep moving, find a way out of the city, and make his way back to his family. The fire axe swung by his side as he jogged down the street, carefully avoiding the groups of infected scattered along the way.
As Marcus reached the makeshift barricade, the large bearded man stepped forward, his rifle still in hand but lowered now that Marcus posed no immediate threat. He was broad-shouldered, with sunken eyes that betrayed exhaustion and perhaps something more—wariness, or maybe even hopelessness. The man eyed Marcus from head to toe, sizing him up.“Introduce yourself,” the man barked, his voice deep and gruff.“Marcus,” he said simply, keeping his tone neutral but respectful. “like I said earlier, I'm just trying to find the best way out of the city."The bearded man grunted, seemingly satisfied with the brief response. “Name’s Briggs,” he said after a pause. “And since the world’s gone to shit, it’s hard to know who to trust. But I figure it’s better we have numbers. Safety in numbers, especially against those freaks.” He gestured vaguely behind Marcus, toward the direction where infected were still roaming in the distance.Marcus nodded. It made sense. Strength in numbers had always bee
Marcus noticed that the XP he got from each zombie varied. Some lower that his initial kill while some were higher. Marcus was still lost on the system's criteria for Xp distribution but he was sure it was something he would figure out soon enough The group reached a small pharmacy and decided to stop for a quick supply run. The streets around them were eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that made Marcus’s skin crawl. Despite the apparent silence, there was an underlying tension in the air, as if danger lurked just out of sight, waiting to strike. The pharmacy itself looked looted, shelves partially emptied and debris scattered across the floor from previous scavengers. Briggs and Erika moved inside first to scout the area, their movements deliberate and cautious. Meanwhile, Marcus and Ian stood near the entrance, tasked with keeping watch.The silence between Marcus and Ian was thick, almost suffocating. Every glance from Ian carried a palpable weight, as if his distrust was a phys
As they stepped out of the pharmacy, the cool air hit Marcus's face, doing little to quell the simmering anger within him. He glanced at Ian, whose contemptuous glare felt like a physical weight. Marcus had to take deep breaths to resist the urge to punch the man.Briggs, leading the way down the deserted street, took the point once more. Erika fell back with Marcus, who was beginning to feel the pain from his injury subside. The throbbing in his shoulder was less pronounced than before, a testament to the resilience his body had gained. This was a positive development, as he couldn't afford to show weakness now. Not when a certain someone was likely plotting against him."Hey," Erika said softly, concern etched on her face. "You did great back there. I know it was tough.""Yeah, well, Ian doesn't think so," Marcus replied, struggling to maintain his composure. "What's his problem? Do I look like someone who killed his parents or something?""He wasn't always like this," Erika explain
As Marcus stepped further into the shadows of the dilapidated building, the pain from his shoulder injuries faded into the background, a dull throb he could almost ignore. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, keeping him focused and perceptive but he knew better than to think he was out of the woods yet. “Hey,” Erika said, her voice breaking through his thoughts. “You sure you’re okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern, and he could see the faint light of worry in her expression.“Yeah, just tired,” Marcus replied, attempting a reassuring smile, though he knew it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can already feel the pain subsiding.”Erika nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t fully convinced. “Just take it easy, alright? We need you in one piece.”“Got it.” Marcus took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension. He thought back to the zombies they had fought, recalling how each kill had been a small victory, Just 1 or 2 more zombies and he would level up. A