The tension in the air thickened again, like a storm cloud rolling back in.

Chris reached out and gave Ethan's shoulder a firm pat. "Ethan," he said quietly, "you don't have to do this. I know exactly what's going on."

Ethan's icy stare softened. He turned to Chris, eyes bloodshot. "I'm sorry, man. If I hadn't told you to kick that thing, none of this would've happened."

Chris gave a crooked smile. "Don't blame yourself. I was the one who got careless."

He paused, then added, voice low and rough, "You know, Ethan, you've always been the guy I looked up to most. Being your brother-in-arms—that's the thing I'm proudest of. But if… if I really do turn into one of them, I need you to end it. Don't let me become a monster."

His eyes shimmered, and he blinked fast.

"No way. Don't talk like that." Ethan activated his ability, eyes narrowing as he focused on the wound on Chris's foot.

A faint thread of gray energy was coiling around the injury, slowly gnawing at the flesh. But inside Chris, something else stirred—another force, subtle but steady, pushing back. The two energies clashed in a silent standoff.

Ethan's heart leapt. He didn't know what was resisting the infection, but it was working. Maybe—just maybe—Chris wouldn't turn after all.

"Ethan," Chris said, still caught in his own thoughts, "can I ask you one more thing? If I don't make it… could you check on my parents? They haven't answered any of my messages. I'm worried."

But Ethan wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were locked on the wound, watching as the gray energy thinned, then faded. Relief hit him like a wave. Chris was going to be okay.

"Ethan," Chris said again, more urgently, "don't hesitate. Just make it quick."

"Stop it," Ethan said. "You're fine. It's over."

"For real?" Chris's face lit up with cautious hope. No one wants to die—not if there's a chance.

"Yeah. Trust me."

Chris nodded, firm and sure. "Okay."

But then Sean's voice cut in, sharp and cold. "You're celebrating too early. He hasn't turned yet, but that doesn't mean he won't. I'm telling you, get him out of here. If you don't, we'll throw him out ourselves. I'm not risking our lives for one guy."

"Try it," Ethan snapped, his voice like steel. "You so much as move toward him, and I'll break your damn legs."

Sean's face twisted with fury. He looked like he was about to charge, but his eyes flicked to the metal pipe in Ethan's hand. He backed off, teeth clenched. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. You're the one closest to him. If he turns, you'll be the first to get eaten."

With that, he stormed off, dragging his two buddies with him.

Chris looked up at Ethan, uneasy. "Maybe you should keep your distance too. Just in case…"

"There is no 'just in case.' I said you're fine, and I mean it. Now sit still—I'm gonna clean that up. The wound's shallow, but we can't risk infection. That's what really kills people now."

Ethan tore a strip from his sleeve and crouched down, carefully wrapping Chris's foot. The gray energy was almost completely gone now. Whatever had been fighting it off inside Chris had won.

Chris watched him work, eyes red. He didn't say thank you. He didn't need to. Between them, that kind of thing had long since stopped being necessary.

"All right," Ethan said, standing and brushing off his hands. "Get some rest. You'll be fine by tomorrow."

Then he caught sight of Chris's red eyes and flinched. "Shit—don't scare me like that. You're not turning, are you?"

"No, no," Chris said quickly, rubbing his eyes. "Just got some dust in them."

"Good." Ethan let out a breath.

"Honestly, my foot's not that bad," Chris said. "Just a few scratches. As long as I don't turn, I'm good to go."

"Still, take it easy. We've got more fights ahead."

Chris nodded. "Yeah."

Half an hour later, Sean and the others were still watching Chris from a distance, puzzled.

"Didn't the internet say people turn into zombies just minutes after getting scratched?" one of them muttered. "So how come he's still totally normal?"

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense. You think all that stuff online was fake?"

"No way. I've got a video saved—shows a guy turning from human to full-on zombie, start to finish. No way that's staged."

"Then what's going on with him?"

"No clue. Should we ask?"

"Not me. That guy's intense as hell. Honestly, I'm kinda scared of him now. Sean, you go."

"I already ran my mouth earlier. If I go ask now, I'll look like a damn idiot."

"Then forget it. Maybe the scratch wasn't that deep. Or maybe Chris is… I don't know, immune or something."

"Huh," someone said. "Now that you mention it, there is something weird about that guy."

"What do you mean?"

"You probably didn't catch it, but earlier, that zombie was about to grab him—like, right on his heels—and then boom, he just vanished. Next thing I know, the zombie turns and goes after Ethan instead."

"No way," said Skinny Pete, skeptical. "That sounds like some sci-fi bullshit."

"I swear on my life. I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen it myself. He told me it was a magic trick. Magic, my ass. What kind of magician doesn't use props?"

"Shit… you think he can turn invisible or something?"

"I don't know. But that guy's not normal. We should keep an eye on him."

"Yeah."

"Alright, shut up—Ethan's coming."

Ethan walked straight up to them, no hesitation. "I'm opening the door again. Gonna lure more zombies up here and kill them. You guys in?"

"Again?!" they all blurted, eyes wide.

"What, you planning to starve to death up here?"

"Nope!" Skinny Pete and Big Mike shook their heads fast.

"Who's going to lure them?" Sean asked, frowning.

"I'll do it," Ethan said. "If we can clear the seventh floor, we can raid the dorms for food. One at a time, pick them off."

That got their attention. Even Sean had to admit, the guy had a point.

While they'd been sitting around waiting for rescue, Ethan had already figured out how to get supplies—and he wasn't even asking them to risk it. He was volunteering himself.

Sean, of course, couldn't help but throw in a jab. "You sure you can handle it? If not, I'll go. I know the seventh floor better."

"Great," Ethan said. "Then you go."

"..."

Sean froze, eyes wide. He hadn't expected that.

Ethan didn't wait for a reply. He bent down, picked up a few chunks of concrete, and shoved them into Sean's hands. "Be careful. If you spot a zombie, don't get close—just chuck a rock at it from a distance and lead it up here. One at a time. Don't bring a crowd."

Sean stood there holding the rocks, mouth open, no words coming out. He wanted to slap himself. Why the hell did he open his big mouth?

So, under the watchful eyes of the group, Sean trudged down the stairs like a man walking to his own funeral.

...

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