The groans grew louder.
Not one or two this time—dozens. Maybe more.
Eliel's grip tightened on the hilt of his greatsword as the dim hallway lights flickered like candles. The shadows at the far end shifted unnaturally, and shapes began to emerge—limping, staggering, snarling.
"Damn it," he muttered. "They must've heard the fight."
Patoa exhaled sharply beside him, tightening his grip on the machete. "Mi seh, Eliel… mi tink we jus' attract a whole concert, an' we di headliner."
"Yeah, and I'm not signing autographs."
Eliel quickly opened his status in his mind, glancing over the updated numbers.
[ Name: Eliel Jojo Cross Rorschach ]
[ Level: 3 ]
[ Strength: 15 ]
[ Agility: 13 ]
[ Endurance: 13 ]
[ Willpower: 12 ]
[ Intelligence: 9 ]
[ Available Stats: 20 ]
[ Skill: Swordsmanship (Level 1) ]
[ Inventory: Greatsword of the Fallen Dawn ]
He didn't have time to think strategically. The horde was advancing. He dumped five points into Strength, five into Agility, and another five into Endurance before slamming the remaining five into Willpower.
Warmth flooded his body instantly—his muscles tensed, vision sharpened, and his pulse steadied.
"Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's try not to die twice in one night."
Patoa cracked a grin despite the tension. "Good plan, mi boss."
The first zombie reached them—its body twisted, missing an arm, but still moving fast. Eliel stepped forward, swung, and the blade cleaved through its torso like butter. The momentum carried into another, the greatsword whistling through the air.
Each strike now felt smoother, faster—controlled aggression. His swordsmanship wasn't just instinct anymore. It flowed.
"Keep behind me!" he shouted.
"Mi can handle mi self!" Patoa replied, kicking one zombie in the chest and slashing at another's neck. The creature's head half-detached, flopping grotesquely before dropping.
But there were too many. For every one they cut down, two more appeared from the stairwell.
"We're getting surrounded!"
Patoa's breath grew heavy. "Mi seh, mi cyaan keep dis up long!"
Eliel's mind raced. "We need to block the hallway or something—anything!"
That's when Patoa froze. His fingers twitched, remembering the strange sensation from earlier—the faint glow that had pulsed beneath his skin after the last battle.
He glanced down at his hand. No light now. Just calluses and blood. But he could feel something—an invisible pressure pulsing beneath his skin, like static waiting to be released.
Without thinking, he pressed his palm against the wall beside him. It felt warm for a second, then normal again.
"Eliel," he muttered, "mi tink mi can do someting."
"Whatever it is, now's a great time to find out!"
Patoa focused on the spot he'd touched, raising his hand toward it as three zombies lurched closer. Something in his chest thrummed—like a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
"Explode," he whispered.
The wall erupted.
A shockwave blasted through the hallway, fireless but violent. The three zombies disintegrated instantly, torn apart by invisible force. The explosion's echo rattled the entire floor, dust raining down from the ceiling.
Eliel stumbled, eyes wide. "What the hell was THAT?!"
Patoa stared at his smoking hand, equally shocked. "Mi nuh even know, mi boss… mi jus'—mi jus' tink 'explode' an' di place blow up!"
Another groan rose—closer this time, from the opposite end.
"Whatever you did, do it again!" Eliel barked.
Patoa grinned nervously. "Mi cyaan believe mi jus' become a bomb, but mi game."
He sprinted forward, slapping his hand on a zombie's chest as it reached for him. Then he jumped back.
The creature froze mid-snarl.
"Boom," Patoa said under his breath.
The zombie burst like a balloon of rotten blood, showering the floor in gore.
"Jesus!" Eliel cursed, wiping his face. "Warn me next time!"
"Mi did warn yuh—mi seh 'boom!'"
"Not helpful!"
Despite the danger, Eliel couldn't deny the surge of relief. The explosions weren't fiery—they were compressed bursts of raw kinetic energy, silent until detonation. They didn't ignite the walls or spread fire; they just destroyed.
It was perfect for tight spaces.
"Keep doing that," Eliel said, swinging his sword into another wave. "I'll cover you!"
Patoa nodded, moving with new confidence. He slapped walls, floors, even the weapons of a few zombies before retreating ten meters. Then, with a smirk, he snapped his fingers.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The hallway filled with shockwaves. Bodies slammed into walls, torn apart midair. The ceiling cracked, lights shattered, and silence fell except for the crackle of dust settling.
Eliel lowered his sword slowly. "Okay… remind me never to make you mad."
Patoa was breathing hard but grinning. "Mi tink mi like dis ting, mi boss. Dis explosion… it feel part a mi, like one extra heartbeat."
The system chimed faintly for him.
[ Talent Fully Activated: Explosion ]
[ Range: 10 meters | Mark Limit: 10 | Cooldown: 3 seconds per mark detonation ]
[ Marks can be placed via touch or weapon contact. ]
Patoa blinked as the text appeared before him. "So mi can tag tings wid mi hand or weapon… an' blow dem up later?"
Eliel raised an eyebrow. "You're literally a walking landmine."
Patoa laughed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yea man, mi call it art. BOOM art."
Eliel shook his head but couldn't help smiling. "You're insane."
"Yea, but useful insane."
They both stood in the wrecked corridor, catching their breath. For a few seconds, the building was silent again. The bodies around them were in pieces, the walls cracked, but they were alive.
Eliel finally exhaled and leaned against the railing. "We need to move before that noise brings more of them."
"Where we heading?"
"The convenience store near campus. If we can get supplies, we might hold out long enough to figure this whole system mess out."
Patoa nodded. "Lead di way, mi boss. Mi ready."
As they started moving down the stairs, a faint system notification flickered before Eliel's eyes.
[ Party Formation Request: Roy Williams → Accept? ]
He smirked. "A party, huh?"
Patoa glanced at him. "Mi like di sound a dat. Mi tink we unstoppable together."
Eliel tapped accept. Their names glowed faintly in the corner of his vision, along with shared health bars.
The bond was official now—survivors, teammates, and something more.
As they reached the lobby, Eliel stopped abruptly.
The front doors had been torn open. Blood smeared the glass. Beyond, the streets glowed with orange light from fires burning across the city. Silhouettes moved in the haze—dozens of them, maybe hundreds.
"Looks like the world really ended," he muttered.
"Yea," Patoa said quietly. "But maybe dis is just di start."
Then, from somewhere far above them, the sound of something massive crawling across the rooftop made both men look up.
The ceiling groaned. Dust rained down again.
Patoa whispered, "Tell mi dat's not what mi tink it is."
Eliel tightened his grip on the greatsword, eyes narrowing. "No talking."
He glanced at Patoa. "And whatever you do…"
He smirked faintly. "Save your last boom for that thing."
Patoa's grin returned, small but fierce. "Mi always do."
The ceiling cracked—something heavy pressing against it. Then came a deep, echoing growl.
The kind that promised the night wasn't over