The last brother, Joey, struggled to rise, terror dawning on his face. “No, please—”
“Oh, I almost forgot you,” Zack murmured with a cold smile before firing one final shot. Joey dropped, his pathetic wails silenced at last. With the three brothers dead, an eerie calm settled over the blood-soaked room, the metallic scent filling the air.
Zack picked up the shotgun the brothers had. To his disappointment, it was nothing more than a crudely made weapon, hand-polished and barely functional. He dropped it back onto the floor, unimpressed.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a Molotov cocktail he had prepared earlier. With a flick of his lighter, he set it ablaze and tossed it onto the floor among the corpses. Flames quickly engulfed the Mansion, flickering against the blood-stained walls and spreading fast.
Without looking back, Zack left, his face calm as he walked away from the burning building. Despite this being his first time killing a human, he showed no signs of hesitation or remorse. He know he need to be decisive or dead is what await him. Only when he was some distance away did he glance back at the burning Mansion, a complicated look in his eyes.
A sudden, long howl pierced the night air, sending chills down his spine. Out of the darkness, four or five shadowy figures—fast, humanoid, and ghastly—emerged, rushing toward the Mansion in response to the flames.
Zack’s heart skipped as he spotted the strange, shadowy figures in the distance. "What... are those?" he murmured, ducking behind an abandoned car for cover.
“Target is too far for a scan. Switching to satellite view,” Ego reported. Within seconds, images from the LSI satellite appeared before Zack’s eyes. Although the night view was dim, he could make out four or five humanoid shapes racing across the ground with inhuman speed. Under the moonlight, their unnaturally long limbs and pale, hairless bodies stood out starkly. They were anything but human.
“Sir, comparison analysis indicates these creatures are newly identified mutant zombies, commonly called Night Stalkers,” Ego informed him. “Data shows Night Stalkers primarily emerge at night. During the day, they remain dormant in dark spaces like basements, entering a state similar to hibernation…”
As Ego spoke, Zack’s expression turned grave. He was witnessing something strange—these Night Stalkers displayed an unsettling degree of intelligence. When they neared Mansion No. 4, they didn’t recklessly charge in like typical zombies. Instead, they fanned out, positioning themselves to surround the burning building.
Then a larger Night Stalker emerged, roaring in a guttural tone that seemed to command the others. At once, the other Night Stalkers surged forward, fearlessly diving into the flames. Within moments, they dragged out the charred bodies of the three brothers and laid them before the larger Night Stalker, who seemed to be their leader.
The leader crouched over the bodies, tearing them open and devouring the fresh organs. The other Night Stalkers waited their turn until the leader finished, then joined in, leaving nothing but scattered, scorched bones behind.
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Watching from a distance, Zack felt a chill creep down his spine. Once the Night Stalkers had feasted, the leader let out another commanding roar, and the creatures disappeared into the darkness. Ego tracked them as they retreated toward an industrial park miles away, only then did Zack release a tense breath.
“These Night Stalkers have some level of intelligence,” Zack said, frowning. “They behave like a pack of wolves—they’re dangerous.”
It confirmed his fears: zombies infected by the Zeta virus were no longer just mindless undead. They had evolved into a new, more dangerous species.
“The power Armor needs to be ready as soon as possible,” Zack murmured, his gaze steely.
For the next five days, Zack immersed himself in his basement workshop, fine-tuning his armor relentlessly. Only occasionally did he leave the Mansion to scavenge for tools and materials. Sophia, though curious, refrained from asking questions. She dutifully brought meals to the elevator, letting it descend on its own, never catching so much as a glimpse of the basement.
She sat in the living room, staring blankly at the TV, her mind far from the cartoons playing on the screen. Her mother’s fate remained uncertain, and though she wanted desperately to beg Zack for help, she held back, knowing her request was unreasonable. Sophia also felt Zack already had enough on his shoulders with her, and even though he’d told her he wanted her as his woman, he’d never once pressured her into anything she didn’t want to do.
Suddenly, a series of heavy thuds sounded from below, like footsteps from something massive. The floor vibrated slightly, causing the water in a glass on the coffee table to ripple. Startled, Sophia quickly turned off the TV. After a moment of hesitation, she picked up the intercom.
“Zack, are you okay down there?”
“Fine,” came Zack’s curt response, his voice slightly muffled.
“Oh, uh, be careful then,” she replied, setting down the intercom with a sigh. She sat there in silence, unable to focus on the TV anymore.
In the basement, Zack took a deep breath, wiping sweat from his brow as he stepped out of the bulky armor. Ego promptly began a diagnostic report:
“Type 1 Armor MV-01, initial wear test complete. Energy transfer is normal. Power unit operational... Warning: nerve conduction devices experiencing significant lag. Solution: recalibration required.”
The lag in the nerve conduction was a major setback. It rendered the armor almost useless, as it couldn’t respond to his movements in real time, leaving him struggling to maneuver under the weight of the massive suit.
After a brief sigh, Zack got back to work, adjusting the nerve conduction device. In these five days, his custom MV-01 Armor had evolved from concept to testing stage. His armor was imposing, heavy—an iron behemoth.
The base was an authentic set of medieval European plate armor he’d found in the Mansion, which he reinforced and retrofitted to bear the MV-01 components. He’d even thickened the metal to withstand conventional rifle fire, resulting in a suit that weighed nearly a ton. The armor’s weight also meant that Ego’s graphene batteries were drained faster, reducing its battery life from three hours to just two. But to Zack, this added bulk was worth the trade-off.
After completing the adjustments, Zack stepped back to admire his work. This armor was not sleek or sophisticated; it was a mobile fortress.
“Ego, start the second test,” he commanded, unable to hold back his excitement. This time, Zack climbed into the armor with renewed confidence.
The moment he activated the suit, he noticed the difference. Every movement he made was mirrored perfectly by the armor. When he raised his hand, the suit’s massive arm followed without delay, moving smoothly, and even his fingers responded to his commands with surprising precision.
“Test commencing... Nerve conduction device recalibrated. All systems operational,” Ego announced.
Zack flexed his armored fingers, feeling a thrill of satisfaction. For the first time, he truly felt the power of his creation, a weaponized extension of his own body.