"Is this really fish?" Hank scratched his head, looking completely baffled.

"Don't worry about it—just eat," Big Ears replied, brushing it off. Truth was, he'd brought back a decent haul of fish, but the journey home had taken over a week. The meat had spoiled along the way, and he'd been forced to eat it himself, leaving behind only a pile of bones.

Hank didn't seem to mind. He grabbed a handful of fish bones, shoved them into his mouth, crunched down a few times, and swallowed.

Even though it was just bones, there was still a hint of flavor left.

"Mmm, not bad!"

"Right? Tastes pretty good, huh?" Big Ears asked, watching him.

Hank was genuinely touched. He threw an arm around Big Ears' shoulder and gave him a hearty pat. "You're the best, Big Ears. My brother for life!"

"..."

Just then, a hulking figure approached from the distance—Bulldozer. His voice was low and serious. "Enough messing around. Boss says you two need to herd the pigs."

"Huh?" Big Ears and Hank looked confused. "Herd them where?"

"To the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser," Bulldozer said flatly.

"..." Big Ears and Hank fell silent. A bad feeling crept in.

From behind, three more zombies—Shrimpy, Mist, and Locomotive—ran over, sensing something big was going down.

"Wait, what? Why are we loading pigs onto the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser?" Mist asked, frowning.

"Orders from the boss. Just do it. Don't ask questions. I've got stuff to haul too," Bulldozer said, then turned and walked off.

The group stood there, exchanging uneasy glances.

Locomotive furrowed his brow. "You think… the boss is planning to run?"

"Knew it. Retreating is the ultimate survival skill. Looks like I'm gonna be the MVP this time," Mist said, puffing up.

Shrimpy waved a hand dismissively. "Cut the crap. That's not running away. That's a strategic retreat."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mist and Locomotive nodded in agreement.

Big Ears had been quiet for a while. Finally, he spoke up, voice low. "No… the boss doesn't need to retreat. The ones who need to get out of here… are us."

"..."

The zombies got to work, moving fast, loading everything useful onto the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser. It was a full-blown operation.

Meanwhile, Ethan was inside the ship's lab, working alongside PhD, going over plans for their migration to Xenorift.

"Xenorift holds ancient, mysterious powers," PhD explained. "Humans barely scratched the surface, and they were already able to create insanely strong rune shields. If someone fully unlocked that power… who knows what could happen."

"Yeah…" Ethan murmured, deep in thought.

Those runes could unleash devastating force—maybe even become a new kind of superweapon.

And the Zombie Kings from Heartland had been studying them too.

Back when they tried to descend upon Earth, they'd tricked Nightbane into drawing a rune-based Ritual Array.

"Even if we can't master the runes completely, we need to understand them. Otherwise, we'll get wrecked in battle," Ethan said.

He suspected that Ritual Array might be one of the Heartland Overlords' trump cards.

PhD nodded in agreement. "When the final battle comes, they'll think they've got the upper hand. But if we crack their Ritual Array… we could blindside them."

"That's the goal," Ethan said, already mapping out his strategy.

PhD was just as calculating. The two Zombie Kings were pooling their brains, working out how to take down the Overlords of Heartland.

Step one: get to Xenorift.

But Xenorift was way more dangerous for zombies than Necroterra. The place was crawling with bizarre creatures and violent, unpredictable species. Bloodshed was constant.

And then there were the forbidden zones—places so deadly that stepping inside meant certain doom.

According to human records stored on the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser, a human expedition team had once wandered into one of those zones. They vanished without a trace, like they'd been erased from existence.

One of the missing team members had a father—an SSS-ranked powerhouse.

He launched a rescue mission himself, heading straight into the forbidden zone.

And then… he disappeared too.

Just like that, humanity lost one of its top-tier fighters, and no one ever spoke of the rescue again.

The whole thing was quietly buried.

Flying the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser straight into Xenorift would be reckless. A beast that massive was bound to attract attention—and not the good kind. There was no telling what kind of ancient horrors might be stirred awake by its arrival.

The smarter move? Scout ahead, get the lay of the land, and chart a safe route before bringing in the big guns.

"I'll head into Xenorift first," Ethan said, turning to PhD. "Once I've got a read on the terrain, I'll contact you through the comms and send over the flight path."

"Got it," PhD nodded without hesitation.

When it came to piloting the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser, PhD only trusted Ethan. Not Bulldozer, not Laura, not any of the other Zombie Kings. This wasn't just a ship—it was their entire hive, their home, their future. Every piece of tech, every weapon, every resource they had was loaded onto that cruiser. If anything went wrong, the loss would be catastrophic.

With the plan set, Ethan didn't waste a second.

The Heartland Zombie Horde was tearing through Necroterra like wildfire. Time was not on their side. The longer they waited, the more likely something would go sideways.

Ethan stepped out of the lab and onto the deck of the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser. Parked ahead was a sleek, state-of-the-art aircraft, prepped and ready.

"I'm heading out. Everything here's in your hands now," he said.

"No problem, boss. You can count on us," the Zombie Kings called out behind him, standing in formation to see him off.

Bulldozer stepped forward. "Boss, if you run into trouble in Xenorift, just hit us up on comms. We'll bring the Dreadnought in and crush whatever's in your way."

"Mm," Ethan gave a noncommittal grunt, not bothering with more words. Under the watchful eyes of his undead crew, he climbed into the aircraft.

The engine roared to life like a beast awakening from slumber. Blue flames burst from the thrusters, and in a flash of light, the ship shot into the sky like a comet.

Whoooosh—

Once Ethan was gone, the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser continued final preparations. It was nearly ready. Onboard were not just weapons, gear, and scientific equipment—but six hundred thousand elite zombies, all highly evolved and possessing advanced intelligence.

The mindless ones, the low-level husks with no sentience, had been left behind in Southvale. They now wandered aimlessly across the vast region, scattered thinly across the land.

Ethan's mission to Xenorift was unfolding with precision. The operation had a name now—The Great Exodus.

Meanwhile, over in neighboring Eastreach, Bloodveil was finally making his return. His massive Bulk Freighter wobbled through the sky, groaning under its own weight as it descended toward the zombie hive at the heart of Eastreach.

Eastreach bordered Frostmere, so technically, Bloodveil had a shorter trip than Ethan. But somehow, it had taken him nearly twice as long.

Down below, his crew of Zombie Kings stood outside the hive, craning their necks as the enormous freighter came into view.

"Damn, that thing's huge!"

"Why does it smell like something died in there?"

"What, did the boss go wrestle a sea monster or something?"

"..."

With a heavy thud, the Bulk Freighter touched down. The cargo bay hissed open with a mechanical ka-chunk, and out strutted Bloodveil, hands on his hips, chest puffed out, grinning like he'd just conquered the world.

He was clearly feeling himself.

...

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