Oh no! I’m too late. Arturo Santana is gone. He initiated the self-destruct protocol before I can stop him. Why? Why can’t I save you? Arturo? Mathis? Atsushi?

While I begin to feel great despair at my weakness, my Port Drive tells me:

“Server shift detected.”

“Server shift? Can you identify who shifted?” I ask my pendant- a common form for most Port Drives, it tends to not arouse suspension- underneath my shirt.

“Negative,” it answers.

The one who has shifted had to be Mathis Micheals—at least that’s what I suspect. Unbelievable! To think I’ve messed things up so badly that I’m relieved that a random program is the one that shifted to another server.

While I contemplate my situation, a man with rotting skin, yellow teeth, and bulging red eyes suddenly appears before me. I believe this is what Arturo Santana has called a Rotter. As soon as I lay my eyes on the thing, a bright-purple glow underlines the Rotter’s character model.

How? I thought Atsushi has been consumed by Arturo’s S.D. protocol. Why are there more infected programs?

As the Rotter approaches me, I ready my weapon and aim at its head. For reasons I can’t explain, my hands shake, and sweat drips throughout my body. I can’t say I like firing a gun, but that shouldn’t matter; this is a situation where my life is on the line. The program isn’t even a human Sol, just a drone deployed by the server to add authenticity to the setting. So why can’t I pull the trigger? I stand motionless, unable to find a proper solution to the problem before me.

I truly am a failure as an Admin.

As I resign myself to fate, I hear the sound of a car in the distance getting louder the closer it gets to my position.

The vehicle is a red sports car, and the driver shoots the Rotter in the head with what appears to be a sawed-off shotgun just like Mathis Micheals had, though I doubt it is the driver’s only weapon.

After slaying the Rotter, the driver opens the door and steps one foot out of the red car, revealing a woman with short, black hair and black sunglasses. She is wearing a short, black leather jacket, a short, green top underneath it, and blue jeans ripped at the knees. If I have to guess, this is another Admin of the “zombie apocalypse” server, Hannah Zhao, leader of the Jade Saiyuki gang.

Before I can properly thank her for saving me, she immediately tells me:

“Maria Izunami, get in! You can explain what the hell is happening on our way to headquarters.”

While I have been told it is unwise to enter a stranger’s car, 'stranger danger' and all that, I have no idea what my next course of action should be, so I just go along with her request and enter her car as she begins to drive away.

Ms. Zhao is driving very fast, almost too fast. My stomach begins to churn, and I feel like I am going to vomit at any moment. I believe I am getting what the SOLs call 'motion sicknesses.'

Noticing my discomfort, Ms. Zhao comments:

“What? Am I going too fast for ya?”

“Yes! Please slow down!” I yell back, not out of anger but because the wind will otherwise drown out my voice.

She then lets out a frustrated groan and tells me:

“Fine! But you have to answer my questions.”

She then slows down the car, but only slightly. I look at the speedometer and see that the speed has changed from one hundred miles per hour to around eighty-seven miles per hour. This woman is what the people outside the system would call a 'speed demon.'

“So what questions do you have for me?” I ask sheepishly.

“What?! I can’t hear you!” Ms. Zhao responds, my voice not loud enough apparently.

I repeat my question, this time yelling it at the top of my lungs.

“Where should I even start? Maybe why are the Rotters glowing purple? Maybe what the hell happened to Arturo Santana?”

Ms. Zhao then takes a deep breath and continues:

“And weirdest of all, how the hell does Mathis Michaels have Admin access?”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“When I checked the server registry menu, I saw Mathis Michaels was listed among the registered admins. How and Why the hell would he just give that up to some freak? They couldn’t have buddied up that fast,” Ms. Zhao responds.

It seems when Mathis took Arturo’s Port Drive, he gained Arturo’s Admin status. Now Arturo’s final actions make a bit more sense. He was a deleted program walking from that point on. If it weren’t Atsushi, it would’ve been the Rabbits . . . I’ve only ever heard about them, but I shudder at the thought. I hope to never see them.

“Arturo . . . Arturo Santana is gone. This server, the whole system, is currently under attack by a Trojan horse. If this server isn’t destroyed, the damage will be severe,” I explain to Ms. Zhao, trying to let emphasize the danger we are all facing.

“What the hell is system control doing about it?” Ms. Zhao asks, clearly angry about the inaction of the system.

I don’t blame her. I’ve seen the effects Atsush—A-Crash can have on a server, fundamentally destroying them from within.

“It’s a Trojan horse. The system doesn’t recognize it as anything from the outside,” I explain to Ms. Zhao.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Damn rebels!” Ms. Zhao says in frustration, slamming her fist into the horn at the center of the steering wheel in frustration and letting out a loud, sustained noise from the car.

“Ms. Zhao . . .”

But she stops and corrects me:

“Please, call me Hannah.”

First Arturo Santana and now Hannah Zhao. The people in this world are very casual. Must come with the territory of being in a lower-tier server. I may as well indulge her like I’ve done Arturo. I don’t want to be rude.

“Hannah, ma'am.”

"You're a stiff one aye?" Hannah Zhao comments with a sigh as she takes her fist off the steering wheel and takes a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, and asks:

“So . . . what’s the deal with Mathis Michaels?”

I explain the little I know about Mathis Micheals, how he’s come into contact with A-Crash and how he .... acquired the Port Drive from Arturo Santana, as well as Arturo Santana's ultimate fate.

“Damn, Arturo kept a Port Drive in a cabinet! How could he be so sloppy?” Hannah Zhao ponders before letting out a soft chuckle.

I swear, do these Admins take anything seriously around here? Their whole server is going to hell, and yet they can still laugh it off? Not sure if that is admirable or foolish.

“So what is Mathis Michaels like?” I ask.

Hannah Zhao lets out a frustrated sigh and tells me:

“Pain in the ass!” in an exhausted, irritated tone.

I have been told by Arturo that Hannah wasn't going to rescue him from the Azure Guererros, but from my experience, he doesn’t seem any different from any other SOL. Sure, he is more . . . violent than any that I have met, but I just assume that's because of the harsh environment of low-tier servers.

“Why is that?” I ask Hannah Zhao, genuinely curious.

Hannah Zhao makes another frustrated sigh and informs me:

“He stirs shit up around here, intruding on the other Admins’ territory like a virus, all for a bunch of useless junk.”

“Is that all?” I ask Hannah Zhao.

She responds:

“Maria, you know what the deal is with the server tiers, right? Yours is a cushy paradise for those the company deems ‘good.’ My server is nothing but a prison, what the users might call hell.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that,” I admit begrudgingly.

I can’t find the words for it, but I have never been comfortable with how the company sets up it's server tiers.

“You know that every SOL in this server has a past. Crimes, sins committed that can never be forgiven. But at least the other SOLs either keep to themselves or follow our lead. Not that guy.”

Huh, so this man is as much as a wild card even before he got infected by A-CRASH's virus and gained Admin access. I need to know. What is he?

“Any reason why he might be like that? Anything from his past that could give me an idea of why he is like this?” I ask, desperate to know how this new piece fits into the conflict, and why Atsushi is interested in him.

“If I had to guess . . .” Hannah then lets out a sigh before she continues.

“Guilt is it's own hell.”

Before I can ask her for further clarification, a thick purple mist appears in front of us, hampering our vision for a few moments. Soon the mist dissipates and reveals a wall of purple-outlined Rotters in the distance, standing still in the middle of the road like statues.

“Shit! Get the crossbow! It’s under the armrest!” Hannah Zhao orders.

I open the armrest in the central console between Hannah Zhao's seat and mine, revealing a hole that appears to be too deep for a medium-sized vehicle such as this car. Since the hole isn’t big enough to get a clear view, I reach my hand in and feel around, hoping I find the crossbow she needs.

Only two minutes in and I feel a tight grip on my shoulder, claws digging into it. Knowing a Rotter must have somehow gotten into the back of the car, I let out a shrill, pained scream to let Hannah Zhao know what is going on. I then hear the loud, piercing sound of a shotgun firing, and the tight grip is gone.

Hannah Zhao shouts:

“You can thank me later! Just get me that goddamned crossbow! I can tell from the tone of her voice that we are getting closer to the Rotter wall. Honestly, I don’t know if a simple crossbow will work. There has to be a reason why the Rotters have formed a wall in front of us rather than just rushing us.

Maybe they are . . . oh no!

I take my hand out of the hole and shout at Hannah Zhao:

“We need to get out of the car!”

“Why?” Hannah asks me, and just then it clicks in her head.

“Shit! They’re literally a wall!”

I nod my head in agreement to confirm my suspicion.

“Son of a bitch!” Hannah crudely shouts, slamming her fist into the steering wheel again.

This woman may have a shorter fuse than Arturo Santana—and a filthier mouth too. And here I’ve thought I would never meet anyone with a fouler mouth than Atsushi . . .

I can’t dwell on days that will never return. I need to focus on the current situation.

I scan for an escape route, but there is nowhere for her to turn; every road is blocked off by Rotters. This appears to be a coordinated attack.

“Found anything?” Hannah Zhao asks, startling me since I’m focused on looking for an escape route.

I shake my head and tell her:

“Negative.”

She clenches her fist tighter and declares:

“Damn it all, we’re gonna jump!”

“Excuse me?” I respond, dumbfounded.

Why do the Admins of this server seem to prefer taking the most dangerous solution to every problem?

“We’re gonna ram the bastards and use the impact to jump over them!” Hannah further explains as she gets out of her seat and climbs onto the back of the car as it hurls toward the Rotter wall rapidly coming into view.

Hannah, crouched on top of the trunk of the car, motions for me to stand up, and I begrudgingly oblige. As I stand on the truck of a car blitzing toward a surprisingly organized horde of zombies, my heart begins to pound. For the first time in my existence, I fear for my life.

I think this may be how humans feel. It’s truly amazing really, having the will to fight and innovate despite death coming faster than their finite lives.

As I contemplate these thoughts, the car finally reaches the Rotters, crashing into them like it would a brick wall. The impact is so powerful that the front of the car is forced downward into the ground and the back of the car is propelled upward.

At the height of the impact, Hannah Zhao shouts:

“Now!”

We leap from the car, over the wall of Rotters, like pole vaulters. Hannah Zhao is able to land on her feet with ease while I stumble after I land. Thankfully, Hannah is there to grab hold of my hand to help me gain my balance. A helping hand, if you will.

As soon as I regain my balance, Hannah Zhao just yells:

“Huff it!”

And we continue to run to the left while the Rotters break their formations and chase after us.

“Son of a bitch! The Rotters weren’t programmed with advanced tactics! It’s like the server is turning against us!” Hannah Zhao complains while we are both sprinting away from the Rotters.

Hannah then gives out a frustrated sigh and tells me:

“I’m gonna have to put a rain check on your visit to headquarters. I think we’re gonna need to split up.”

I look at her for a moment and give a slight nod in agreement and tell her:

“I understand. You regroup with the remaining Admins, I’ll search for Mathis Micheals.”

“One-one-eight-nine Malafia Avenue,” Hannah Zhao tells me.

Before I can begin to ask what those numbers meant, Hannah Zhao clarifies:

“His address. I doubt your Port Drive has enough memory to make a server jump. Just use his place to hide out while it recharges. Besides, it will give you some time to learn about Mathis as well.”

“Thank you,” I respond.

“May the designs protect us.”

“The designs? You religious like Ar—?” Hannah Zhao then stops herself, letting out a resigned sigh. She continues:

“Fine. May the designs protect you too.”

After we say our goodbyes, Hannah Zhao starts moving to the left, taking half of the Rotters with her as I continue running to my new destination.