“Always with the fucking zombies,” Vell said. He slammed the door to their lair shut behind him. A few grasping zombie fingers got caught in the door and were cut off by the slam. The severed digits managed to crawl around like worms until Samson kicked the fingers aside.

“I don’t know, as far as early apocalypses go, I kind of like it,” Hawke said. “Usually easy to solve, and bashing zombie heads in is great stress relief.”

“Hawke, your arm’s off.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Hawke said. He waved his bandaged stump. “Kim did a really good job cauterizing the cut.”

“He’s still in shock,” Vell whispered to Samson. “Don’t engage.”

Samson nodded and stayed quiet as Hawke took a seat and relaxed. The physical and mental trauma of having his arm chopped off hadn’t caught up with him yet, which was probably for the best.

“Alright, Alex, Helena, welcome to your first zombie apocalypse,” Vell said. “Like Hawke said, these are usually pretty simple, but we still have a lot of fighting to do, so its time to arm up. Samson?”

With an entirely unnecessary flourish, Samson popped open the storage locker. Rather than the usual avalanche of mismatched magical swords and myriad other weapons, a convenient row of carefully arranged boxes slid out and into the open. Though he no longer had to clean up his twin brother Ibrahim’s messes, Samson found he kind of missed being responsible for things. He chose to channel that energy into organizing and managing the looper’s supplies.

“Take your pick, ladies,” Samson said. “I’ve got an itemized inventory list if you want one.”

“Yeah, Alex, pick your poison,” Vell said, gesturing to the weapon stockpile. “Just pick your favorite one and I’ll slap a summoning rune on it for you.”

A summoning rune that he would be keeping on his person for the time being. Alex had yet to earn unrestricted weapon privileges. She would object to that ruling later, but right now she was busy objecting to something else.

“One? Am I limited to only one weapon?”

“I mean, you can dual wield if you want,” Vell said. He patted the revolvers on his own hips. “But I don’t think we have any other matching sets.”

“Pick a signature weapon and lets go,” Samson said. He wanted to get out of here before the Hawke shock wore off and he started screaming again.

“I’m not going to arbitrarily limit myself to one weapon,” Alex said. She reached down and picked up a long halberd, to keep zombies out of biting distance. “This is the best weapon I can see for the current situation. I’ll get a different one when the situation changes.”

“Generally speaking it’s better to stick to one weapon,” Vell said. “Universe likes it when things are thematically concise.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“That’s ludicrous.”

Vell disagreed, but he also recognized a losing battle when he saw one. He gave up and moved on to their next newbie.

Helena took two steps towards the stack of weapons and held up her crutches.

“Do I look like a warrior to you?”

“I don’t know, lady, we got weird shit in here,” Samson said. “Obviously I’m not expecting you to use a sword or something, but we have other stuff. Harley left enough parts to build a new drone, I think, there’s a wand or two.”

“I’ll pass,” Helena said. “In any real combat scenario I’d just be a liability. Now, that said, there is something I’d like to use this opportunity to try…”

Helena hand drifted towards one of her pockets. Samson’s hand drifted a little closer to the rows of weapons. He only pulled away when Helena revealed her hidden prize -a single candy bar.

“I have been wondering what these taste like my whole life,” Helena said.

“Candy?”

“Yes! The only real sugar I’ve ever had was one chocolate chip on my eighth birthday,” Helena said. “And I spent the next three days in the hospital.”

She leaned on one of her crutches and started clumsily unwrapping the candy bar.

“But since this is an easy apocalypse and I have nothing to contribute anyway,” Helena said. “Bottoms up.”

“Are you sure you want to-”

Helena cut Vell off by taking her first bite. After a second of chewing and pondering, her eyes went wide.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled. “How does this-”

Rather than talk, Helena opted to go for a second bite, and when she continued, she did so with her mouth full.

“You people just have these lying around,” she said incredulously. “How are you not always eating them?”

“Well, dental bills alone,” Hawke said.

“All my teeth are fake anyway,” Helena said. She took another bite and started to go red in the face. “Oh, there we go. I better finish this before- hurk.”

Her throat was now visibly swelling, but Helena shoved one more mouthful of chocolate into her face before she started turning purple. Vell grabbed her by the shoulder and tried to hold her up, but only a few short seconds later, Helena collapsed on the ground with a short gasp for air, and then stopped moving.

“Did she just...die?”

Vell put a hand on Helena’s neck to check her pulse and then pulled it away without a word. He didn’t need to say anything.

“God damn,” Hawke said. Now he had an entirely new round of shock to keep the pain at bay.

“She seemed like she knew what she was doing,” Vell said. They had all used the time loops to pig out on junk food from time to time, albeit with far less lethal stakes.

“There are worse ways to go,” Hawke said. “Especially with zombies at your door.”

“On that note, I believe it is time we handled those undead,” Alex said. She shouldered her halberd and stood by the door. “Unless anyone has any objections?”

“Last call to pick a signature weapon, but if you’re sure-”

“I’m sure,” Alex said, as she snapped the door open. The first zombie stumbled through, and she shoved her halberd blade directly through its chest. The zombie then continued walking, sliding directly along the length of the pole, and bit a chunk of her neck out.

----------------------------------------

“We told you so,” Samson said.

“It was a simple tactical misstep,” Alex said. “I should’ve slashed instead of stabbed.”

“Oh don’t feel bad, Alex,” Helena said. “There’s worse ways to get yourself killed.”

“You’d know,” Samson scoffed.

“Completely worth it, by the way,” Helena said. “I’ve already got my candy picked out for next time.”

“Just give us more warning next time, please,” Hawke said. Despite the return of his arm, the shock of watching Helena commit suicide by candy had not entirely worn off yet. His full ability to feel disturbed had been returned to him just in time for Helena to flash him a disturbing smile.

“We’ll see.”