I watched from the doorway, still behind Commander Li and his men, as Chenghai’s next strike landed half a second too slow.

The zombie twisted under the impact instead of dropping clean. He had to hit it again and again, his breathing heavier than it should have been, his chest heaving with each breath he took. For a fighting power type, this shouldn’t be happening. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Zhenlan’s air pressure caught a diving bird but missed the second one entirely. It clawed across Chen Minghao’s shoulder before Lingyun’s fire took it down. The soldiers were slowing too, their powers fluctuating as their movements dragging like they were fighting through water.

Sweat ran down their faces despite the cold air, their hands shaking on the triggers.

Yuche pulled metal from the fence again but the twist came slower this time, the barrier weaker. A cat slipped through the gap before he could close it, its rotting body moving with unnatural speed.

Gao Sheng caught it with a burst of air but stumbled doing it, his hand braced against the porch railing for balance, his knees buckling slightly. Liu Zhenyu’s water spread across the driveway in a thin sheet but it wasn’t enough to slow the zombies anymore.

They just kept coming, stepping over the bodies, climbing the fence, pouring through every gap. The sound of them was constant—moaning, scraping, the wet drag of flesh across pavement.

Someone shouted something I didn’t catch and I saw Tan Wei go down on one knee, his face pale and slick with sweat, his hand pressed against a bite on his forearm.

The skin around it was already darkening, spreading up toward his elbow in thin black lines that branched like roots. He got back up and kept firing but his aim was off, his shots going wide more often than not, his hands trembling.

I wasn’t worried that he was going to become a zombie. Once you got your powers, there was no way to contract the zombie virus.

But it was still a bitch to burn through your system.

"Fall back," Commander Li screamed. His voice cut through the noise, but it was twinged with fear and uncertainty. The men were losing, and he knew it. They knew it. Everyone knew it.

His men came first, pulling back in pairs, covering each other as they retreated up the porch steps. Their movements were fast but ragged, desperation bleeding through the discipline.

Chenghai followed, his hands bloody and split open across the knuckles, his fingers curling and uncurling like he couldn’t quite make a fist anymore.

Zhenlan was right behind him, his face tight and his breathing hard, each inhale sharp and shallow. Lingyun came last, fire still flickering around his hands as he backed through the doorway, the flames weaker than before, guttering.

Yuche stayed on the porch for another three seconds, holding a section of fence in place with visible effort, his arms shaking, then let it go and stumbled inside.

The door slammed shut and someone threw the deadbolt.

Another voice called out to check the windows. Footsteps scattered in different directions, boots heavy on the floor, moving fast but controlled.

I stepped back from the door and watched as Commander Li’s men spread out through the house. They didn’t ask permission. Didn’t look at me. Just moved. The sound of the horde outside didn’t stop—it pressed against the walls, a constant low roar punctuated by impacts against the siding, the windows, the door.

Sun Ming went toward the back of the house. I heard his footsteps stop, then start again faster. He came back into the hallway and his face was tight, his jaw clenched. "Who left the back door open?" he demanded, his eyes going wide with the fear that a zombie had managed to get inside and was hiding.

The men were talking now, their voices overlapping in the living room.

I walked toward the sound and stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Chenghai was at the front window, looking out through a gap in the curtains, his shoulders tense. Zhenlan stood near the couch, his arms crossed, his eyes moving between the other men. Lingyun paced near the far wall, his hands still twitching like he wanted to call fire again. Yuche sat on the arm of the couch, his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes half-closed but his breathing still uneven.

"How long can we hold this?" Chen Minghao asked. He was checking the lock on the side window, testing it with his hand, pulling on it twice to make sure it held.

"Depends what gets in," Zhao Rui replied, his brows furrowing with worry. He was near the hallway, watching the stairs just in case. "If it’s just the slow ones, maybe a day. Two if we’re—"

"It’s not just the slow ones," Gao Sheng cut in, shaking his head. His voice was rough, his breathing still uneven. "The birds can get through broken glass. The cats can slip under doors if there’s a gap. We saw that already."

"Shit," Wang Junjie said. He was standing near the kitchen entrance, his rifle still in his hands. "We need to make sure the animals can’t get in. Board up the—"

"The windows are the weak point," Liu Zhenyu said, talking over him. "If they break the glass—"

"They will," Tan Wei said. He was sitting on the floor near the wall, his hand still pressed against the bite, his voice tight with pain. "It’s just a matter of time. We’ve seen what they can do."

"Then we reinforce them," Deng Kai said. "Boards, furniture, whatever we can move. We stack it against—"

"That buys us what, a few hours?" Lingyun said. He stopped pacing and looked at the group, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Then what? We’re still trapped in here."

"Then we wait them out," Li decided. He was standing near the front door, his arms at his sides, his expression calm despite the chaos around him. "They’ll lose interest eventually. Move on to easier targets. We just need to outlast them."

"How long is that?" Chenghai demanded. His voice was flat but there was an edge to it. "A day? Two? A week?"

"As long as it takes," Li replied, turning cold.

I watched them talk. Listened to them plan. They were thinking about time and barriers and what could get through the walls. They were thinking about holding position and waiting for the horde to leave. They were thinking about reinforcing windows and stacking furniture and outlasting the siege. They were thinking wrong.

The house wouldn’t hold. Not against this many. Not with the animals that could slip through cracks and the birds that could break glass. The walls wouldn’t stop them. The doors wouldn’t hold forever. Waiting just meant dying slower, trapped inside while the horde pressed closer, found the weak points, broke through one gap at a time. I could see it already—the way the pressure would build, the way the sounds would get louder, the way panic would set in when the first window shattered or the first door gave way.

They were planning to survive by hiding. By waiting. By hoping the threat would leave on its own.

That wasn’t how this worked.

I pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the front door. No one noticed my movements at first. They were still talking, still throwing out ideas that wouldn’t work, their voices overlapping in desperate planning. I reached the door and my hand closed around the handle. The metal was cold under my palm, solid and real. Outside, the moaning continued, constant and patient.

"Rouxi—" Yuche said. His voice cut off when I turned the deadbolt. The sound was loud in the sudden silence, a sharp metallic click that made everyone stop talking.

I pulled open the door.

Behind me, someone shouted my name, but I didn’t turn around.

I just pulled the door closed behind me.

It was time for the final boss battle.