Dry gunshots and the whistle of blades. Empty shells dance in the air, gunsmoke rises, and bullets shatter zombie heads into fragments.

  Corpse blood splatters walls, rancid brains burst. Choking stench spreads as motionless bodies are trampled by advancing zombies. Eve’s silver wings slice one in half from behind Danang, its upper body spinning, spewing blackened organs.

  Blocking the M-sector corridor are armored corpses and tattered hospital gowns. Fresher zombies drip melting flesh, eyes oozing, but those in gowns are barely humanoid.

  Skin and flesh weathered over years, organs save for heart and brain turned to dust. Infected by Necros, these living-dead abominations, more slave than ghoul, are grotesque beyond hell’s hunger.

  Danang fires into the horde, but with no time to reload, he draws Heres, deploying his mechanical arm’s vibrating blade. He carves through brains and hearts—zombie weak points—black blood splashing his cheeks, staining his gray hair. Unfazed, he sprints forward.

  “Eve, you okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, no problem. You? You look tired,” she replies.

  As they exchange words, Nephtys’s voice cuts through: “Signal source nearing. Right turn, strong signal from central control room.”

  Scattering enemies, sharing a glance, Danang and Eve dodge two killing machines crashing through the wall.

  One after another—! A linwyrm roars, raising its chainsaw, while a Rakshasa’s chain-gatling mows down zombies. A Shura, an autonomous humanoid war machine, bursts through the ceiling. In the chaotic fray, Danang moves to deploy the wave cannon, but Eve stops him.

  “Lucky break,” she says.

  “Lucky? You lose your mind?” he snaps.

  “Watch.” One of Eve’s silver wings pierces the Shura. Her prismatic eyes lock onto its systems, rewriting combat protocols.

  Targeting system altered, admin privileges reassigned, command structure shifted, tactical programs reconfigured… In three seconds, Eve hacks the Shura’s entire database with staggering computational power, commanding, “Clear them out.”

  The Shura, growling low, swings heat blades wreathed in flame, melting steel. A single strike obliterates the linwyrm, its crimson mono-eye glinting as it kicks aside zombies clawing its forged alloy armor.

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  “You hacked its systems?” Danang asks.

  “Yeah, no need to fight small fry ourselves, right?” Eve replies.

  Embodying raw violence, the Shura deflects gatling rounds aimed at Eve, crushing the Rakshasa’s joints like paper.

  A human could never match such a machine as an ally—how reliable. Stunned, Danang watches the Shura dominate, then, gasping, grabs Eve and leaps back.

  No proof of an attack, with the Shura handling enemies. But a warrior’s sixth sense screams danger where he stood. A pale-blue laser sears through, grazing his armor.

  His heart pounds painfully, blood rushing, then chilling as sweat pours. Molten steel drips from the glowing ceiling. A muscular creature—Scylla—blinks its single eye, charging energy.

  Scylla—! Drawing his magnum, Danang fires, but the muscle-fiber beast dodges, dropping six more eyes from the melted ceiling.

  Switching to his assault rifle, he swaps the empty magazine. Even a skilled shooter needs a second for this. Facing six laser eyes melting steel, Danang’s hands falter.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry—! Magazine loaded, aiming at Scylla, his vision flashes white.

  It’s over. Bad move. Shielding his face with his mechanical arm, Danang peeks to see Eve’s wings forming a shield. Blocking the high-compression laser with five wings, she screams, “Danang! Pull it together! Shoot! Now!”

  Laser heat burns his skin. White-blinded, he can’t aim precisely; bullets would melt. Yet his arm rises, resting the rifle on Eve’s shoulder, auto-aim locking onto Scylla’s eyes beyond the laser.

  “Eardrums’ll burst,” he warns.

  “They’ll heal, don’t worry,” she says.

  A head-on fight’s impossible. His arm’s sensors glitch, auto-aim half-useless.

  “Nephtys,” he calls.

  “Yes?” the AI replies.

  “Activate bio-metal. Max out arm support and calibration. Handle firing angle,” he orders.

  “Understood.”

  Worms surge from Danang’s chest, enveloping his arm, coating the rifle in ultra-hard steel. The red-hot barrel, scorched by lasers, adjusts slightly right with Nephtys’s aid, firing rapidly.

  A dull thud—flesh and water bursting. The laser stops, and a two-meter crimson mass of writhing muscle fibers falls, twelve limbs convulsing. Scylla, shredded by the Shura’s blades, is confirmed dead.

  “Structural destruction intruder… correction, Scylla eliminated. Combat support terminated,” Nephtys reports.

  Eve shakes off her scorched wings, while Danang’s bio-metal use temporarily weakens Lumina. Leaving enemies to the Shura, battered but determined, they race to the central control room’s panel.

  Eve’s wings, charred from the laser, are decayed. Of course—using her sole weapon as a shield against skin-searing heat. What more could she do? Extending his hack cable, Danang plugs into the socket, pinning Eve against the door, rifle raised.

  “What? No need to hide me,” she says.

  “You’re weaponless,” he replies.

  “I’ve got self-regeneration. Don’t worry,” she says.

  “Shut up,” he snaps.

  “…”

  “You protected me. Now it’s my turn to repay you,” he says.

  Compared to Eve’s hacking, Danang’s arm program is inferior, but opening an isolation door’s panel is simple.

  Breathing shallowly, hearing the unlock beep, Danang shoves Eve inside, tumbling in himself. Closing the door to the Shura’s battle sounds, he gazes at a blue orb projected in the room’s center.