Day Five of the Apocalypse.
More than half the zombies had evolved into Tier 1. The number of Tier 2s was climbing fast.
Their destructive power had skyrocketed. Standard dorm doors—once enough to keep the monsters out—were now little more than cardboard. For the survivors, the world had grown even smaller, even crueler.
On the surface, it looked like the odds of getting a crystal core had gone up. In reality, it had only gotten harder.
Any random horde now had a majority of Tier 1 zombies. Most survivor teams couldn't handle that kind of firepower.
And then came the real gut punch.
On Day Five, the cell signal died.
No warning. No explanation. Just gone.
No one knew if it was just Starlight City or the whole damn country. But here, at least, the silence was absolute.
No more news. No more texts. No more calls to check if your mom was still alive or if your best friend had made it out. Even the illusion of connection was gone.
