Kamala
The engine of the silver bike purred quietly beneath them as Blade Knight and Kamala Khan approached the outskirts of what remained of the Ohio S.H.I.E.L.D. base. The sky above was still stained in the dusky crimson of an endless sunset—a hue that had become the world's new normal ever since the outbreak began. The metallic fences that once guarded the perimeter were half-collapsed, and the massive hangar doors bore claw marks that told of countless sieges.
Kamala tightened her grip on the device in her hand—the keychain-sized hope that Riri had entrusted to her before sending her away. "This is it…" she whispered. "If there's any place left that can make this work… it's here."
Blade Knight didn't reply immediately. His pale eyes swept over the horizon, calculating. His silence wasn't cold—it was focused. Every subtle motion in the landscape seemed to register with him, like a predator assessing its environment.
And then Kamala noticed it—the horde.
Thousands of zombies stood surrounding the base. Not charging, not moaning, not even shifting. They were still—unnervingly so. The field around the base looked like a sea of corpses frozen mid-motion, their pale faces all turned toward the walls.
Kamala's heart skipped. "They… they're not attacking?"
Blade Knight slowed the bike to a crawl, his grip tightening slightly on the handlebars. "They should have noticed us by now." His tone was calm, but Kamala could hear something else beneath it—not surprise, but acknowledgment, as if this was confirmation of something he had already suspected.
"What do you mean?" Kamala asked, glancing nervously at the still figures.
"The dead obey patterns," he replied. "When they stand still, it means something—or someone—is controlling them."
A chill went down Kamala's spine. "Someone's controlling them? You mean… there's someone in there?"
Before Blade Knight could answer, a sharp, static-laced voice boomed from nearby loudspeakers.
"Identify yourselves!"
Kamala flinched, her gaze darting to the base's upper wall. A rusted camera slowly rotated toward them, its red light blinking alive. The voice—female, firm, but tinged with exhaustion—echoed again. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Blade Knight's head turned slightly toward Kamala. The silent message in his gaze was clear: You speak.
Kamala swallowed hard. "Uh… hi!" she called out, her voice cracking slightly before she forced herself to stand taller on the bike. "My name's Kamala Khan! I—we're not infected! We came here because we found something that might help stop this—the apocalypse, I mean!"
There was a pause, just the hum of dead air through the speakers. Kamala looked down at the device in her hands—the small, metallic charm that pulsed faintly with an inner light.
She raised it so the camera could see. "This! We found this device two days ago! It's made with Pym particle tech, and it's supposed to send a signal to an organization off-world. We think it's a cure—or at least something that can help! But… we need S.H.I.E.L.D. tech to activate it!"
Static buzzed again. Then the woman's voice returned, quieter this time, almost uncertain. "You're saying… that thing can save us?"
Kamala hesitated. "I don't know if it can save everyone, but it's our best chance."
Another silence followed, and Kamala could almost hear faint murmuring in the background—other voices arguing, perhaps, debating whether to trust her. She shifted nervously on the bike seat, clutching the device tightly.
Blade Knight said nothing, his gaze still on the unmoving horde. But Kamala noticed how his fingers brushed the handle of his blade, ready—not out of fear, but instinct.
Then, with a sudden mechanical groan, the massive gates of the base began to open. The sound was deafening in the stillness. Kamala gasped as the horde—all those unmoving zombies—began to stir.
Except they didn't attack.
They turned as one, parting in eerie synchronization, clearing a narrow path leading straight to the base entrance.
Kamala's skin crawled. "They're… moving out of the way?"
Blade Knight's eyes narrowed. "Controlled behavior," he murmured.
The voice from the speakers returned, firm again but with a hint of weary relief. "Proceed. Slowly. If what you're saying is true… then you're humanity's last hope."
Blade Knight revved the engine and began moving forward, his tone low as he spoke to Kamala. "Stay alert. Do not mistake stillness for safety."
Kamala nodded quickly, gripping his shoulder as they rode between the ranks of the undead. The silence was suffocating. The zombies didn't blink, didn't breathe—some had their jaws half-open, as if frozen mid-snarl, while others twitched slightly as they turned their heads to follow the moving bike.
Kamala couldn't take her eyes off them. "This… this doesn't feel right," she whispered.
"It isn't," Blade Knight replied. "No natural mindless creature behaves with this discipline. Someone powerful is orchestrating this. Possibly using S.H.I.E.L.D. tech."
The base loomed closer—a towering structure of concrete and steel scarred by battle. As they passed through the final row of still zombies, Kamala saw faint light inside the gates and several armed survivors waiting, their guns trained but hesitant.
"Welcome to the Ohio base… Ms. Khan. Let's hope you're as good as your word." The one who welcomed them was a woman.
~~~
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