The hum of the underground lighting buzzed faintly, just beneath the edge of hearing, as Logan reviewed the system interface again. Chris sat across from him, wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, still trying to absorb everything he'd seen.
The tension hadn't lifted.
Trust wasn't automatic, not in this world.
Logan's eyes flicked across Chris's profile on the interface.
Survivor: Chris RourkeRole: UnassignedFaction Status: NeutralBehavioral Profile: Compliant, Strategic Thinker, Emotionally GuardedCombat Viability: ModerateTechnical Viability: LowSystem Integration Detected: No
He frowned. "You didn't awaken."
Chris looked up, blinking. "Huh?"
"You didn't get the interface—no status screen. No stats. Nothing?"
Chris shook his head. "Not that I've seen. I mean… I've been surviving. But nothing popped up when I killed anything. And I've killed a few. Zombies. Whatever that thing in the alley was."
Logan tapped his fingers on the desk. "Then not everyone gets it."
"Gets what?"
Logan didn't answer. Instead, he stood and motioned for Chris to follow.
They moved through the bunker, deeper into the engineering bay. An extended workbench lined the wall, littered with half-finished constructs, broken tools, and the inner guts of a scavenged drone. Power conduits hummed softly as they passed.
Logan opened a sealed locker and pulled out a reinforced scout harness and a compact tactical datapad with a cracked screen but working input.
"You're gonna help me scout the city perimeter," he said. "We need to map the spread of the warped zone. I'll lead. You carry support."
Chris took the gear slowly, inspecting it. "You're just… bringing me with you? After all the suspicion?"
"I'm not trusting you," Logan said. "I'm using you. Trust is earned over time. What happens today will decide what happens next."
Chris nodded. "Fair."
They returned to the ready station. Logan picked up his shotgun, checked the action, then slung a modified quiver of bolts across his back alongside his compound bow. His vest now carried tripwire tools, three flares, and one home-forged EMP dart.
Chris grabbed a crowbar and a compact sidearm Logan handed him—nothing fancy, just a reliable old nine-mil with two half-full mags.
"What are we hitting?" Chris asked.
"Distribution center," Logan said. "East of here. Big one. Used to supply most of the surrounding suburbs. If it hasn't collapsed or been swallowed by distortion, it'll have enough canned food and packaging supplies to triple our shelf life."
"And if it has been swallowed?"
"Then we see how bad the world got."
They climbed the access ladder back to the surface.
The shed door creaked open to another wave of ash-thick wind.
The red sky hadn't moved. The air buzzed. Logan felt the System stir inside him.
Zone Objective: Scout Distorted Logistics HubRecommended Level: 2Party Size: 2+Status: Danger Rating Increased – Warping UnstableReward: Unknown Crafting Materials / Base Expansion Unlock Potential
Chris didn't see the message.
But Logan did.
And it only made his pulse slow, not rise.
Because this was what he'd prepared for.
The walk took longer than expected.
The streets they once knew had changed. Some intersections looped back on themselves like bad geometry. Others led to nowhere. Warping wasn't visual anymore—it was spatial. You could walk five minutes and still be in the same place. Or round a corner and end up somewhere entirely different.
The System helped guide him. Subtle arrows appeared in the corners of his vision, calibrated to match real terrain. It didn't show full maps—it wasn't a GPS—but it showed possibilities: safe paths, dangerous ones, and threat signatures detected in places where the wind moved too quietly.
Chris noticed the difference.
"You've got… something helping you, don't you?"
Logan didn't answer at first. He adjusted the grip on his weapon.
"Yeah," he said eventually. "I see things you don't. Warnings. Enemy presence. Objectives."
"Then you're some kind of chosen one?"
Logan barked a low laugh. "No such thing."
"Then why you?"
Logan didn't answer that.
Not because he didn't know.
But deep down, he was afraid of the honest answer: Maybe the world gave the System to the ones who were ready to become monsters.
The distribution center came into view like a wound carved into the Earth.
What had once been a massive warehouse complex with loading bays, freight containers, and delivery ramps now looked like a broken husk of bone and steel. The walls were buckled outward, and the entire northeast corner had collapsed into itself like it had been melted by gravity.
But that wasn't what made them stop.
It was the silence.
No wind.
No birds.
No ambient hum of reality.
Just the sound of their breathing.
And something beneath it, too soft to hear but too heavy to ignore.
Chris whispered, "You sure this is worth it?"
Logan activated the scanning pulse.
Environmental Scan: PartialThreat Tier: Moderate to SevereAnomalous Activity: ConfirmedMutation Signatures: PresentLoot Viability: HighWarning: Warp Zone Core Signature Detected
"Yeah," Logan said quietly. "It's worth it."
They stepped inside.
The air changed the moment they crossed the shattered security gate.
Colors bent in strange ways. The sunlight filtered through cracks in the roof but landed in the wrong spots, casting shadows at impossible angles. A spilled pallet of canned corn lay on the ground, the labels shifting through languages that didn't exist.
Chris moved carefully behind him, one eye always on the shadows.
Logan's bow was in hand now. Silent kills only. Gunfire inside a warped zone was a beacon for worse things.
They passed what used to be the dispatch office. Someone had tried to fortify it—wooden planks nailed to walls, furniture stacked in front of the door. A message was carved into the concrete floor just outside in crude, slashed lettering:
STAY OUT – WE COULDN'T KILL IT
Logan knelt, running a gloved hand over the message. The grooves were deep, and the writing was panicked. Someone had taken the time to make sure it was visible.
Chris pointed at the end of the hallway.
"Movement."
Logan's eyes flicked up.
He saw it too.
Shadows moving without a source. Slithering across the walls, slow and intentional. Like a hand reaching out of a dream.
Chris raised his pistol.
"Hold," Logan muttered.
The shadow slid away.
No screech. No charge.
It watched.
Logan activated a local ping.
Mutation Signature Detected – Tier 2Type: UnknownBehavior: ObservationalAggression Threshold: MediumArea Classification: Zone Core (Dormant)Recommended Action: Extract or Prepare for Engagement
He motioned silently, and they veered left—into a row of freight aisles, stacked high with metal shipping racks.
Each step echoed too long. Footsteps came back wrong. Delayed. Distorted.
Logan stopped near a broken forklift and knelt.
There, wedged behind a bent panel, was a glowing crate. Not power-lit, but system-lit. It shimmered with a faint orange hue.
He pulled it open.
Inside:
Sterile medical rations (x4)
Field repair kit (Tier 1)
Reinforced wiring coil
Compressed Nanoplastic Sheets (Crafting Material – Rare)
Map Fragment: Encrypted Zone Sector
Chris whistled.
"Jackpot."
Logan handed him two of the rations. "Quietly. Eat now if you need. We won't get a better break."
Chris nodded and tore open the seal.
Logan tucked the rest of the loot into his satchel, mind already racing with what could be crafted.
But then—
A sound.
Deep.
Wrong.
Like a broken cello being dragged through gravel.
Logan froze.
System text appeared again.
Zone Core Awakening – Proximity TriggeredMutation Type: Apex-Tier Sub-EntityCodename: RENDCLAWBehavioral Profile: Hostile – Area DefenseObjective Updated: Escape with Acquired Materials or Defeat the Guardian
Logan looked at Chris. "We're leaving. Now."
They turned.
And from behind the collapsed corridor, it emerged.
A creature that walked like it had once been human, but long ago. Muscles split open in the back where too many limbs had grown. Its head was a skull with no face—just a jagged ring of teeth and pulsing tissue. On its shoulders were old company uniforms, half-melted into its flesh.
Chris aimed his pistol and fired twice.
Nothing.
The bullets hit—crunching meat—but it didn't stop.
Logan grabbed a flare from his chest, snapped it, and threw it hard to the right.
The flash lit the aisle in violent red. The creature paused, distracted for half a second.
That's all they needed.
They ran.