After a long, tense silence, Vivian emerged from the kitchen with a face like a thundercloud, her steps sharp and deliberate.
"You... fucking animals," she spat, trembling with rage as her eyes swept over the group.
Her teammates followed close behind, every one of them grim-faced, jaws clenched tight.
"It's the apocalypse," the man in front barked, eyes wild. "We're all gonna die anyway—why hold back? Don't pretend like half the men here didn't want to do the same. We just had the balls to act on it."
He laughed, a jagged, manic sound. "So what if we ran into you today? Fine, we lost. But you think you're getting out of here? The main dining hall's almost out of food. The streets are crawling with the dead. We're all starving, waiting for a rescue that's never coming. Even if it does—none of you will live to see it."
Vivian's voice cut through the air like a blade. "That's not your concern anymore. Nate—kill him."
