The warehouse settled into uneasy quiet once more.
Wind howled faintly through the cracks in the sheet metal, brushing dust across the floor like drifting snow. The lantern's glow flickered, painting every corpse in dull, shivering gold.
Suzune finished her second inspection of the fence. "No more movement outside," she said, voice low. "But the smell's getting worse."
Riku knelt beside one of the dead sprinters, pressing a gloved hand against its neck. The flesh was stiff, cold—yet the faint black veins still pulsed like roots trying to reach for soil. "They're not decomposing right," he muttered. "Even now."
Ichika groaned from where she sat slumped against a crate. "Can we not have a science lecture at midnight? I'm running on fumes here."
"You can sleep," Suzune said without looking back. "We'll rotate shifts."
"I'm fine," Ichika lied. She was trembling slightly, whether from exhaustion or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Just give me ten minutes to remember how to breathe."
