“nopenopenope- I’ve changed my mind Death, send me back. SEND ME BACK!”

“If you’re afraid of the contagion, rest assured; we can’t be influenced by it. For one, the incisors of the turned squids can’t even break our skin. Even if by some miracle you were to be injected with the virus, it’d be harmlessly purified through contact with the divine energy that circulates through our systems. Perfectly safe.”

“It’s not the fear of getting turned, my man; it’s the atmosphere of it all! Look!” Stories frantically gestured at their surroundings.

Plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Heaps of broken down vehicles abandoned at corners, some parked end to end to form a makeshift barricade. Every window in every building as far as the eye could see had been shattered, the shards of glass left untouched just a small distance in front of them. There were patches of black ink still painted across portions of the concrete sidewalk from previous firefights by some valiant military squad that had either perished by now, or were forced to retreat after their defences were overcome by the undead threat.

But most of all was the silence. It was the dissonance between the two; the sight of a heavily industrialised society, packed to the brim with technologically advanced creations like skyscrapers or asphalt paved roads – mixed with an utter, striking quiet.

Plus, it was currently around mid-day, with the planet’s sun hanging high in the sky. You would expect the bustle of office workers scuttling about and rushing towards their destination, perhaps the sound of construction work as contractors worked to improve or repair parts of the city. Maybe a roadside food stall calling out for people to browse their wares. The cries of children frolicking about, chasing each other while they pranced about in the park, watched on by their smiling parents.

Nothing.

“You guys don’t think this is, I dunno, eerie?” Stories pleadingly asked the other two Gods. Surely they were at least a little wigged out?

“Nope.”

Well, yeah, Death had the benefit of continued exposure to this setting; he was bound to have developed a desensitisation to it by now. Order, on the other hand, would-

“You’re overreacting as usual, moron. Let us go find one of these zombies to examine.”

Outnumbered two-to-one, Stories groaned, then jogged back over to join them. Safer in numbers, he thought. You know, I bet the reason why they’re not scared of this obviously terrifying situation is because they’re used to being solid all the time. If they’d suddenly turned intangible I bet they’d freak out too.

Apparently the squid’s planet lay outside the Dimensional Wall, since Stories was currently fully tangible; which meant that he experienced every sensation in greater degrees than if he was still in his ghostly form. In a different context, preferably one that wasn’t a world ravaged by killer undead, he’d have appreciated the rare chance to take in the sights. It was, after all, a modern world crafted by squids that had somehow went down a different evolutionary route than their counterparts on other planets. He would have been wondering about the logistics of it all; did they have to periodically mist the air with moisture for their skin? Were any of their pre-humanoid skills still present, like their ability to propel themselves through bodies of water with their fins?

But unfortunately, there was nothing he could to do to change the reason that they were here. So Stories clung to Death’s arm, trying his best not to focus on the destruction around him as the three took a walk down the middle of the main road, keeping an eye out for any infected they could drag into a corner to pick apart.

“There,” Order pointed to a half-shuttered shop where a figure was hunched over, seemingly bending over to pick up something, yet not moving their arms to do so. From an examination of the situation, it was likely that it had been turned within the store, but couldn’t exit the premises as the shutters blocked the top half of its body. To any rational person, all they’d have to do would be to crouch down and crab-walk out. Simple as ABC. The zombie had figured out the first bit, at least. It was now stuck on the second half.

“Do we… go in? Or like, drag him out by the ankles? I vote the second option.”

“I don’t see a good argument for not going in, God of Stories and Creativity. For one, we won’t be disturbed by other stragglers and it’s a secure place to carry out the inspection. But for your peace of mind, I’ll go in first to assess the subject and look around for others.” Order grabbed the edge of the shutter and lifted it just enough to accommodate her height. The sound of the metal creaking upwards stirred the squid zombie awake almost immediately, and it began to snarl in a mixture of spit and froth. But although it had obviously noticed the presence of another person in front of it, all it could do was shuffle uselessly towards the sounds, upper body still pressed against its legs.

“It’s alright now, coward.” Order called out. “The creature’s spinal column must have snapped; its range of motion has been severely limited to a few centimetres. Though it is interesting how it hasn’t already expired. An injury of this extent would have killed off any other mortals.”

“Yes, vexing, isn’t it?” Death said as he entered with Stories. “For your reference, I’ve personally tested several methods of incapacitation on these things. I’ve tried tearing off all their limbs, punching holes through their chest, skewering them with poles – they’re terribly tenacious. Even torn off a few heads and they would continue to try their best to nibble at my fingers.”

“So… what do you need for the test?” Stories asked the female God as she pinched the flabby skin of the squid with a pair of forceps, extracting a skin sample which she then deposited in a small container. “Just a bit of blood and tissue? You’re not going to say that you need to observe it overnight, are you?”

“As promised, I’ll be quick. God of Death and Taxes, I’ll require you to assist me with this. As you well know, my energy reserves run out exceedingly quickly.”

Order dropped the container into her pouch, then reached out and placed a fingertip on the zombie. She likely could have completed the task herself with what she currently possessed – after all, it was a mortal with little to no resistance to her powers – but there was a charging port right here. Why not make use of it?

With the confirmation that Death was in position behind her, hands in full contact with her bare shoulders, Order activated her ability. The memories of the zombie pre-infection flowed through her mind, beginning from his birth and continuing to the moment of his passing. She filtered out the irrelevant portions, things like the squid learning how to drive and getting promoted at work.

Stolen novel; please report.

But where usually the images faded to black and stayed that way till Order switched off her ability, with this mortal, there was a short portion of time where the information cut off, before it resumed from the viewpoint of the zombie. Like a tape with a section edited out. But the important part was that it resumed; there was no splicing in of a different consciousness, or a subsuming into a hive mind as she’d theorized. The zombie before them was the same person as he was before he had died – with all his desires replaced with a single one.

To pass on his new condition to as many living mortals as he could.

“Okay,” Order pulled away from the zombie, wiping off the fingertip with a cloth. “I have what I need.”

“That’s it? I mean, I’m grateful for your efficiency. But two minutes? You touch one zombie and you’re done?”

“More importantly, Order,” Death interrupted, voice serious and stern. “Do you know how to make it stop?”

“From what I’ve learnt so far, there isn’t much more that can be gleaned from other subjects. The reason for their current state of re-animation is a perfectly logical one. I’ll elaborate when we get back to the divine realm. Firstly, I’ll have to go speak with somebody. God of Death and Taxes? If you don’t mind?”

==========================================

“Care to explain, God of Technology and Advancement?” Order placed the cup holding the skin sample in front of the bewildered God, the plastic clacking against the wooden worktable. She was flanked by two equally confused Gods, who had come along for her promised reveal.

“Sorry, but what is this about? Do you need another cage for your experiments? And why bring Death along?” Technology bemusedly replied, picking up the receptacle and shaking it about, watching the fleck of tissue rattle about. “Are we having a party or something?”

“Well, I believe we deserve an explanation for why you’ve subjected an entire planet of mortals to what can be safely described as a living hell. I scarcely believe that mere mortals have the ingenuity to overcome death if even we Gods are still searching for the answer. The only other person that I know of that would be remotely capable of this… is you.”

“Wait, so this whole zombie thing was HIS fault?? He’s the machines guy, right? Zombies are a whole different thing altogether. Heck, if Death hadn’t sworn that he had nothing to do with this, I’d have thought he was behind this.”

Technology perked up at the word, “zombie”.

“Hold on, the Revival Satellite worked?! I’d forgotten all about that! Gimme a sec, I’ll get the control panel.” Technology ran excitedly towards a cluttered workbench, digging through a mountain of inventions to find what he was looking for. As he sifted through the pile, he spoke out loud, merrily. “Life approached me before a few centuries ago to help with his little project. So I set to work, crafting a mechanical solution to his biological problem. I suppose it only activated right about now.”

“Ah! Here we are!” Technology extracted a tablet from its home underneath a set of self-tying knots and brushed off the display with the sleeve of his workwear. Bringing over the panel to the waiting Gods, he initiated the start-up sequence by pressing a button on the side. “The Revival Satellites (name subject to change), were meant to scan every planet it passed for a suitable level of advancement, and should it meet the criteria, start broadcasting waves of energy disruption meant to obscure Death’s influence over them. Don’t have to make them live longer, just gotta make them not die when they’re killed!”

Order’s face drooped. So she wasn’t the first to reach the answer, then. But she pressed on. There was still room for improvement for what Technology had come up with; the solution was flawed in its presentation.

Wouldn’t be the great feather in the cap that she’d dreamed of, but she reasoned that being the one to refine the methodology still had a nice ring to it.

“Was the expression of the disruption waves as a zombification of the populace intended? I would hardly think so, but I want to confirm it with you, as the creator.”

“…yep, only one’s active at the moment. I’ll recall the lot right away, so we can put this whole zombie thing to rest.” Technology tapped away at the screen as he sent the commands for the satellites to disengage. “Hmm? Oh, the zombie thing? Nah, I didn’t think it’d do that; thought it’d just give the mortals a little more time with loved ones and all that. Have no idea why it defaulted to zombies. Could be a bug with the settings; maybe I left in a line of code somewhere telling them to propagate. Yeah, now that I mention it, that’s probably it. The satellite thinks it’s a good thing to be dead, therefore the rest of the mortals bathing in its rays, by transitive property, think it’s good, too. Must’ve hijacked the biological framework of those affected to produce fast-acting toxins so that they can kill as quickly as possible.”

“Do you think you can fix it?”

This was the most important part: the satellites had done a passable enough job already. What needed to be altered was simply the part where the mortals they affected turned into mindless undead.

Technology scratched his head. “I mean, it’s doable, in theory I could omit the faulty coding… but the project was never viable from the beginning. The idea of them were to relieve the workload on Life’s end; not take over completely. And it takes a heck of a lot of time to build even one of these; if you want me to create enough to cater to all the worlds-“

“Could you rework them to instead be larger? If it would be difficult to create more, then maybe the answer isn’t the amount of satellites, but the scale of each individual one.”

“Huh?” Technology refuted the suggestion as soon as it was raised. “The whole idea of individual satellites was so that it could pick and choose which planet to work on; if we modify them to indiscriminately target every planet… well, Death over here’s going to be out of a job.”

“And besides,” he added. “the sheer amount of divine energy it would take; not to mention the need to alter the intensity of the waves so that we can vary the expected lifespans of each mortal colony on every planet it can hit… my satellites just can’t handle that level of complexity! Entirely out of the question!”

Order smiled.

“You let me worry about that. I have just the thing for it.”