How many zombies are there in total?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with dread.

[Exact number unknown. Rough Estimate: Over 95% of the human population have become Zombies.]

The man felt his heart stop. A chill crawled down his back, making the metal armor encasing his body feel like an ice-cold prison.

"What the hell!?"

His voice cracked, the weight of that percentage crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Over 95% of humanity... gone. The figure paced, his armored footsteps echoing in the cold, metallic room.

"How!? That should be impossible!" He threw his hands into the air, his voice rising in disbelief. "The governments... the military, they would have intervened before things got this bad! Even if zombies just started appearing, they would've been eradicated. Firepower alone should've been enough to contain the outbreak. How did it spread like this?"

[Answer Unavailable.]

The cold, robotic response made him want to scream. His fists clenched tight, metal scraping against metal as his frustration built.

"You..." He growled, then paused, exhaling sharply to calm himself. "Forget it. Can you at least tell me where I am?"

[Inside a room.]

The words hit him like a slap to the face. He stared at the walls, his patience hanging by a thread.

"You..." His whole body tensed, on the verge of losing it. "I meant, where is this place located?"

[This place is on an island, surrounded by the Aquarius Ocean, on the outskirts of the Western Continent.]

"The Western Continent?" He muttered, his mind scrambling to connect fragments of memory. "The Aquarius Ocean... My memories are a bit foggy, but correct me if I'm wrong. The Western Continent... it's one of the six major continents, right? And the Aquarius Ocean, it's one of the five oceans in our world, Ataraxia?"

[That is correct.]

The man sighed, relief momentarily washing over him. At least something felt familiar in this madness. 'Phew... at least I remember some things.'

He took a deep breath, his thoughts racing to fill the gaps in his memory. "Oh, I have another question. Do you know who that ill-tempered bastard is? I don't know why, but I have this deep, burning urge to kill him. I can't even remember his face, but I feel it in my bones—no, in my wires—that I hate him with every fiber of my being. I need to end him, no matter the cost."

Silence. For the first time since waking up, his assistant didn't respond. It was unsettling. The silence was so thick that the man's unease grew with every passing second. Faraday had answered every question until now.

"What do you know?" He demanded, his voice sharp, a tremor of desperation creeping in.

[...]

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The silence persisted, thick and oppressive. He felt his pulse quicken, a knot tightening in his chest. He spoke again, this time softer, almost pleading.

"Please... tell me. Knowing who that man is might be the key to unlocking my memories. I need to remember... I need to know."

A long pause stretched out before the assistant's voice returned, but this time, it sounded different—almost somber.

[If I tell you about his identity and why you want to eliminate him, it could push you into madness. You would be plunged into a very dark path.]

The man stood frozen, Faraday's warning hanging in the air like a foreboding shadow. He stayed quiet, processing those words for what felt like an eternity. He had already woken up to a world in ruins, with most of humanity gone and a mysterious armored body. How much worse could it get?

After ten minutes of deep thought, he finally spoke.

"Fine... you don't need to tell me now. I assume I'll remember everything about that bastard once I unlock the 16th ability and meet the requirements to regain my memories, right?"

[...]

Faraday hesitated, the silence almost tempting it to reveal more, but before it could, the man cut in.

"Till then, I'll focus on training. I won't let my will be tainted by whatever dark memories might come when the time is right."

[...I can finally see why you were chosen.] Faraday muttered softly to itself, almost too quiet for the man to hear.

"Did you say something?" He asked, turning slightly, a curious glint in his eye.

[Nothing.]

"Right..."

[But, have you decided on what name you will register? It cannot be 'Unregistered' forever.]

The man blinked. A name? He hadn't even considered that yet. "But... I don't remember my name."

[Then make one up.]

He stood in thought for a moment, the weight of that simple suggestion settling on him. It was like trying to put a label on a blank slate. After two minutes of silent contemplation, a name floated to the surface.

"Black Flame."

Faraday paused before responding as if processing the choice.

[Cringe.]

"Huh? Did you say something?"

[Nothing.]

"Then I guess it's just my ears ringing."

[Name registered: Black Flame.]

Black Flame sighed, feeling a strange sense of finality to it. "Well then... time to get out of this room."

He walked toward the door, its sensors detecting his movement and opening with a soft hiss. With steady, deliberate steps, Black Flame exited the room. The hallway beyond stretched out before him, cold and metallic, with another set of doors just eight meters away.

He approached the doors, his metallic footsteps echoing with every step. After pressing a button, the doors slid open, revealing an elevator. Its walls were sleek, silver, and lined with more buttons than he could count. Without hesitation, he pressed the highest floor number: 20.

"Huh? Why isn't it working? Is this thing broken?"

[You are on the 20th floor.]

Black Flame blinked, realization dawning. "No wonder... I'm already at the top."

He pressed the button for the lowest floor, number 1, and felt the elevator shudder as it moved upward.

'Wait... upward?'

[The 20th floor is the lowest floor.] Faraday's calm voice interrupted his thoughts as if reading his mind.

"So... we were 20 floors underground?!" He exclaimed, surprise coloring his tone.

[Yes.]

"Holy—" He paused, shaking his head. "Well, whatever." Black Flame shrugged it off. After everything he'd learned today, a building 200 feet underground barely phased him.

As the elevator ascended, his thoughts wandered. 'Still... it's amazing.'

Moments later, the elevator reached its destination with a soft ding, and the doors slid open, revealing... another set of doors.

"Why are there so many damn doors?!" Black Flame groaned, stepping out into the room beyond.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of cold, unyielding metal. Every surface was painted, but there was no mistaking the underlying material.

"Why is everything here made of metal?" Black Flame wondered aloud, examining the room with a puzzled expression.

[This facility is constructed from Endurium, the second strongest metal on this planet.]

"What the...?" Black Flame's eyes narrowed. "Did you just read my mind? How did you know what I was thinking?"

[Coincidence.]

"Yeah, right." He muttered, dismissing the thought. After everything he'd been through, mind-reading seemed like a small leap. 'But no... even advanced tech can't read minds. That would be—'

His thoughts trailed off as the realization hit him. 'Oh wait... the world is already doomed.' He chuckled darkly, walking toward the next door.

Beyond that door was a sight that would be etched into his memory forever.