The university grounds felt different from the stadium.
Darker and quieter.
Buildings lined the main pathway like enormous shadows.
Emergency lights flickered in scattered windows while distant generators produced a low mechanical hum somewhere deeper within the campus.
Cleanup crews worked throughout the grounds.
Hazmat-suited personnel moved between buildings carrying stretchers and equipment.
Some wore respirators. Others had abandoned them entirely, either from exhaustion or simple indifference.
Bodies occupied large sections of the campus.
Infected corpses were loaded into transport trucks.
Human remains rested beneath identification tarps.
A handful of superhumans lay separated from the others, receiving noticeably more careful handling.
Don walked through it all.
His boots crushed scattered debris.
His bandaged hand remained tucked close to his chest.
His eyes moved across the scene without lingering.
He had seen enough death tonight to fill several lifetimes.
