The silence after the Wraith’s departure was deafening. It was the kind of silence that pressed against their ears, making every breath sound too loud, every creak of their boots against the floor feel like a gunshot. The room where the Ex-Marine had made his last stand felt colder now, as if the Wraith had stolen all the warmth from the air.

Lex stood in the center of the room, her crossbow lowered but her grip still tight. The others were scattered around her, their expressions mirroring the disbelief she felt. The Ex-Marine’s body was crumpled in a corner, his lifeless form a stark reminder of how easily the Wraith had dismantled him.

“What… what was that thing?” Maya finally whispered, breaking the oppressive silence. Her voice was shaky, her usual composure cracked.

Damien was pacing near the far wall, his machete still in hand. His movements were restless, agitated. “I don’t know,” he said, his tone sharp. “But whatever it was, it’s not on our side.”

Sophie, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her tablet, was furiously typing, her face pale but focused. “I’m trying to find something, anything, in the files,” she muttered, more to herself than the others. “The Wraith… it has to be in here somewhere. It’s connected to the Hive Mind. It has to be.”

Brandon leaned against a nearby shelf, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to steady himself. “It ignored us,” he said, his voice low. “It killed him—tore him apart—but it didn’t touch us. Why?”

Lex exhaled slowly, forcing herself to think. She replayed the Wraith’s movements in her mind, the way it had seemed to emerge from the shadows, its presence overwhelming and unnatural. It hadn’t even glanced in their direction. Its sole focus had been the Ex-Marine.

“I don’t think we’re its target,” Lex said finally, her voice steady but quiet. “At least… not yet.”

“Not yet?” Damien snapped, turning to face her. “You saw what it did to him! If that thing decides we’re next, we’re dead.”

“We don’t know that,” Lex said firmly, meeting his gaze. “It had plenty of chances to attack us, but it didn’t. That means something.”

“Maybe it’s saving us for later,” Maya said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Maybe it’s just waiting for the right moment.”

Sophie glanced up from her tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Or maybe… it’s not after us at all,” she said, her voice hesitant.

Lex turned to her. “What do you mean?”

Sophie hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keys. “I’ve been digging through the Hive Mind files ever since we saw the Wraith for the first time,” she said. “It’s… different. There’s barely any data on it, and what little there is makes no sense. It’s not behaving like the other variants or even the bosses we’ve seen.”

“What are you saying?” Brandon asked, frowning.

“I’m saying… I don’t think the Wraith is following the same orders as the others,” Sophie replied. “It’s hunting, but it’s not after survivors. It’s targeting the Psychos.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“So, it’s like… what? Some kind of clean-up crew?” Damien said, his tone skeptical. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense if the Psychos are rogue elements,” Sophie countered. “Think about it. The Hive Mind is all about control, right? If the Psychos are too chaotic, too independent, maybe the Wraith is a failsafe—a way to eliminate anything that threatens the Hive Mind’s order.”

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Lex processed Sophie’s theory, her mind racing. It was plausible, but it raised even more questions. Why hadn’t the Wraith attacked them during their encounters with the Psychos? Was it ignoring them on purpose, or was there something else at play?

“Even if that’s true,” Lex said, “it doesn’t mean we’re safe. The Wraith’s motives might not include us now, but we don’t know if that’ll change.”

“Exactly,” Damien said, his voice hard. “We can’t just sit around and hope it ignores us.”

“No one’s suggesting that,” Lex shot back. “But panicking won’t help either. We need to focus. The Ex-Marine is gone, and we have his supplies. That’s a win. Let’s use it.”

The mention of the supplies seemed to bring the group back to the moment. Brandon nodded, stepping away from the shelf and moving toward the corner where the Ex-Marine’s gear was scattered. His rifle, grenades, and tactical pack were all intact, a stark contrast to the man who had carried them.

Damien joined Brandon, rifling through the pack and pulling out a few items. “Grenades, extra ammo, a med kit,” he said, listing them off. “This is a goldmine compared to what we had.”

“And we’re taking all of it,” Lex said, her tone resolute. “Every piece of gear we can carry.”

Maya moved to help, her movements slow but purposeful. “At least something good came out of all this,” she murmured.

As they sorted through the supplies, Sophie continued working on her tablet, her focus unbroken. Lex glanced over at her, noticing the tension in her posture.

“Sophie,” Lex said, walking over. “What else are you seeing in those files?”

Sophie looked up, her expression conflicted. “There’s more,” she said hesitantly. “Other variants, other… things. The Hive Mind isn’t just controlling the zombies. It’s experimenting. Adapting. The Wraith might be just one of many.”

Lex felt a chill run down her spine. “How many?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “But there are mentions of others. Something called the Banshee. The Siren Queen. The Titan. They’re all listed as high-level variants, and their descriptions… they’re worse than anything we’ve seen so far.”

“What about weaknesses?” Maya asked, joining the conversation. “There has to be something we can use against them.”

Sophie hesitated, scrolling through the files. “There’s some data on weaknesses,” she said. “But it’s vague. They’re all tied to specific conditions or vulnerabilities. The Titan’s joints are its weak points. The Banshee relies on its voice, so targeting its throat might work. But…” She trailed off, her expression darkening.

“But what?” Lex pressed.

Sophie glanced up, her eyes filled with worry. “There’s another one listed,” she said. “Something called the Wrath. There’s no data on it—no description, no weakness, nothing. Just a name.”

The room fell silent as they processed Sophie’s words. The Wrath. Even the name felt ominous, a shadow hanging over them.

“Great,” Damien muttered. “Another nightmare waiting to kill us, and we don’t even know what it looks like.”

“We’ll deal with it if we have to,” Lex said firmly. “Right now, we focus on what’s in front of us.”

“And what is in front of us?” Maya asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “We just lost one of the biggest threats we’ve faced, only to have something worse take its place. What’s the plan, Lex?”

Lex took a deep breath, her mind racing. The Wraith had thrown everything into uncertainty, but she couldn’t let it derail them. They still had a goal: survival. And they would see it through.

“The plan hasn’t changed,” she said. “We keep moving. We find more supplies, more survivors if we can. And when the time comes, we face whatever’s waiting for us.”

The others nodded, their expressions a mix of determination and exhaustion. They had been through so much already, but they were still standing. Still fighting.

As they finished packing up the Ex-Marine’s gear, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. The group tensed, their weapons raised as they waited for whatever was coming.

But it wasn’t the Wraith. It was a small group of survivors—a man, a woman, and a teenage boy. They looked disheveled, terrified, and barely armed.

“Please,” the man said, his voice trembling. “We heard the fighting. Is it safe here?”

Lex exchanged a glance with the others. They had seen too many survivors fall, too many lives lost. But she couldn’t turn them away.

“It’s safe for now,” she said. “Come with us. We’ll keep moving together.”

The survivors hesitated but nodded, stepping cautiously into the room. As Lex led them out of the maintenance level, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Wraith was still watching, lurking just beyond the edges of their perception.

Whatever its purpose, it wasn’t finished yet. And neither were they.