The quiet in Marcus's broken study felt deeper than any sound.
The loud alarms from the upper facility sounded far away, a soft, dull noise hidden beneath heavy layers of concrete and steel.
The only sounds were Jun and Rebecca's heavy breaths, the soft crackle of fading sparks from the wrecked console, and the quiet, broken whispers of James Marcus as he knelt among the ruins of his life's work, feeling completely defeated.
Jun quickly moved past the man on the ground. The danger had changed. His [Threat Sense] buzzed softly from the earlier clash, reaching down through the floor and into the dark arena below.
The zombie horde moved like a wild, hungry wave, a restless sea of noise and chaos. But among them, like a flickering torch in a dark cave, was a different presence—intense, urgent, vibrant, and slowly fading away.
Billy Coen.
"We have to go down there," Rebecca said, her voice tense as she stepped toward the open door. She worried about him, as he was also a survivor like them.
Jun nodded and walked alongside her. As they walked by Marcus, he didn't lift his gaze. His fingers moved slowly over the jagged pieces of a broken monitor, completely absorbed in his deep sorrow. He felt like a ghost already.
The hallway outside the study opened up to a cold, metal spiral staircase, winding down into the depths of the facility. With every step, the air turned colder and more humid.
The clean, sharp smell of the upper labs faded, replaced by the rich, earthy scent of a hidden place, untouched by sunlight, mingling with the now-familiar metallic odor.
At the bottom of the stairs stood a thick, heavy door, labeled 'ARENA ACCESS.' The door was a bit open, held back by a bent piece of metal—probably from Jun messing with the control systems using his shotgun.
Inside, darkness stretched endlessly, and the noises hit hard: wet snarls, feet scraping on concrete, and the sudden, jarring thud of a blade striking flesh, followed by a deep, inhuman cry.
Jun stopped at the doorway, feeling everything around him. His quick reflexes sharpened his hearing, cutting through the noise around him.
[Threat Sense] created a mental picture—many slow, grouped enemy dots and one quick, fading, defensive dot darting around near the far wall.
"He's still here, trapped." Jun leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe thirty meters in, near the western wall," he said, his lips brushing against Rebecca's ear to cut through the noise around them.
The closeness in the dark felt personal, her warmth a real comfort in the emptiness around them. "The lights are out; here's your flashlight."
Rebecca nodded, tossing the shotgun over her shoulder and grabbing a tough, military flashlight from her pack. The switch clicked with a startling loudness.
A bright white light sliced through the deep darkness, revealing a terrifying sight.
The arena felt like a vast concrete pit, stretching out about fifty meters wide. The light moved across the flipped-over tables, scattered medical tools, and the slow, ghostly shapes of zombies—more than twenty, perhaps even more, lurking in the darkness.
In the middle of the beam's path, for just a moment, stood Billy Coen. He leaned against the wall, his shirt ripped and stained with blood, his face showing deep weariness.
A lifeless zombie sprawled at his feet, while three more shuffled closer, their groans growing louder. He caught sight of the light, his eyes growing wide with a blend of shock and a flicker of hope.
Just then, he had to duck away from a reaching arm and slip back into the shadows as Rebecca's beam swept past.
"We have to make a way to him or distract them," Rebecca said, her tone serious, but Jun could sense the slight shake in her voice.
Seeing a fellow survivor in this kind of apocalypse-type situation, even one who has fallen from grace, in such a bad way hit hard.
"If we draw them in, they'll just come at him quicker. We're clear," Jun said, his thoughts racing. Charging straight into a crowd in the dark was a death wish. He had to shift the ground to steer the encounter.
His eyes, used to the darkness outside the flashlight's glow, searched the edges of the arena. He noticed it then—a web of walkways and platforms about fifteen feet above the arena floor, probably for watching and lowering specimens.
A small control panel was fixed to the wall close to the entrance, accompanied by a sturdy ladder that reached up.
"Check that out," he said, gesturing, "the high place."
"You're the light that guides me, while I'm the one who carves the paths ahead."
Rebecca got it right away. The plan was straightforward and harsh: she would offer light and ranged support from the safer heights of the catwalk.
He would crouch low, tapping into his speed and strength to make his way to Billy and pull him out.
She didn't say anything more. Instead, she stepped toward the ladder and started to climb.
The light from her flashlight flickered wildly over the arena, stirring up confusion and anger among the creatures below.
Jun listened intently as he heard the sound of her boots striking the metal grating above.
"Shine on me, then guide my way to him," he called up, his voice steady. "Keep going."
He inhaled deeply, sensing a surge of energy inside him—1225 points of potential. This was the time. Going down into the darkness, right into the middle of the horde, needed more than just quickness.
It required strength.
He thought about what he had learned in the last hour—the quick hits from Marcus, the heavy force of the Tyrant, and the intense weight of the infected world around him.
He needed something solid to stand on. He had to be something that couldn't be shattered.
He concentrated hard, and the system reacted. The ideas, the "conceptual energy," came together in a fresh way—not about moving, but about lasting through it all.
A picture of cells coming together, of tissues thickening, of his body turning into a stronghold. The price was high, a big step for his chance to stay alive.
[Breakthrough Achieved: Reinforced Cellular Structure.]
[Points Spent: 500. Points Remaining: 725.]
A feeling like warm metal flowed through his veins, not hurting, but incredibly strong. He felt weighty and solid, as if his bones had grown stronger.
The dull pain from Marcus's hits faded away. He flexed his hand, and his knuckles felt as hard as iron.
He's ready.
"It's time, Rebecca!" he yelled.
The flashlight beam cut through the darkness, catching him in its glow for a moment before moving on, revealing a rough, zombie-infested trail leading to where Billy had last been seen.
Jun stayed still. He fell down.
He dropped down into a crouch on the concrete fifteen feet below, the thud resonating through the ground, a jolt that would have broken his ankles just moments earlier.
Suddenly, there was a strong jolt.
The noise instantly caught the attention of every zombie nearby. Their groans grew louder, a desperate sound as they turned and started to stumble toward the bright, lively source of life.
"Come on," Jun said, standing up with his combat knife in hand, his gray eyes sharp in the bright light. The dance in the shadows had started.
••••••
The circle of light surrounding Jun felt like both a cage and a tool. It lit him up just right for the crowd, but it also revealed every decaying face, every reaching hand, and every stumbling step.
The moans of the undead rose into a loud, overwhelming noise, a heavy feeling of mindless hunger all around.
He stood alone, a stubborn candle flickering in the thick darkness that was closing in around him.
He stood still, not waiting for them to come closer. Stopping meant death.
He moved, and the new weight of his body felt different, but it didn't hold him back; instead, it made his movements sharp and decisive.
His first move wasn't just a step—it was a bold rush. He braced himself and charged at the first zombie, a massive ex-security guard, with determination.
BAM!
The hit was harsh, and it lacked any grace. The creature's chest collapsed with a disturbing crack, the impact of Jun's strong body sending it tumbling back into two others, causing a brief pile-up.
He turned away as they fell. He was already turning, his quick instincts sensing the next danger—a lean, swift creature with long claws scraping against the concrete as it lunged for his side.
Jun's hand moved with lightning speed, the knife dancing through the air. He didn't go for the head; instead, he sliced through the creature's outstretched arm at the elbow.
The blade met unexpected resistance, grinding through tendon and bone with a harsh scrape. The zombie lurched, struggling to stay upright, and he swung his other fist, hard as rock, into its temple.
The skull broke with a sickening crack and then fell to the ground.
"Look out on your left, Jun! Three closing!" Rebecca's voice echoed from the catwalk, bright and clear, as her flashlight beam danced over a group of zombies stumbling out of the darkness, blocking his way forward.
He shifted right away, his trust in her gaze unwavering. He pretended to go down the main path, then turned quickly and jumped into the light she offered.
He plunged the first of the three in with a strong, precise thrust right into the eye socket. The second one felt a sharp blow to the knee, and there was a loud snap as the joint gave way, causing him to fall down.
For the third one, he took hold of the front of its worn shirt, using its own speed and his powerful grip to throw it hard against the railing of the catwalk above, creating a loud, metallic sound.
He was a storm of efficient, brutal violence, carving a red path through the pale, shambling bodies. But at the same time he wasn't just a brawler; he was a tactician.
His [Threat Sense] was a 360-degree map in his mind. He felt the approach from behind—not a slow shamble, but a faster, more deliberate lope.
He turned quickly, lifting his knife, just as a Cerberus, one of the escaped creatures, jumped out from the shadows beyond the light of the flashlight.
Its mouth, filled with sharp teeth, closed quickly on the forearm he raised to protect himself.
The strong jaws closed tight.
A day ago, they would have broken bones and ripped through flesh. Now, they felt the amazing weight of his strong arm.
The teeth scraped and marked but didn't go in far. A sharp, hot pain flared up, a warning that stung, but it was just the ache of a deep bruise, not a serious injury.
Jun stayed calm, and then he took hold of the creature's own grip. He brought his strong forearm down hard, with the dog still clinging on, crashing it onto the sharp edge of the metal examination table.
CRUNCH.
The creature let out a yelp, a surprisingly ordinary sound, and its jaw relaxed. Jun yanked his arm away, feeling the warm, dark blood seep from the puncture wounds.
They were closing up, but not as quickly as they normally would. It was as if his body was choosing to be tougher at that moment, sacrificing fast healing for a stronger defense.
He quickly ended the dog's life with a sharp thrust at the back of its head.
He moved toward Billy's last spot, leaving behind a path of quivering shapes. The flashlight beam moved forward, finally finding Billy Coen once more.
He knelt down, gripping a jagged pipe like a makeshift spear, trying to hold off two zombies that lurched toward him.
A deep cut on his leg oozed blood, and he moved slowly, weighed down by tiredness and the loss of blood. He felt the weight of everything closing in on him.
"Billy! Get down!" Jun let out a fierce roar, his voice slicing through the sounds of discomfort.
Billy, tapping into his soldier's instinct, hit the ground hard against the concrete.
Jun couldn't see the target well, but he had a tool with him.
He quickly grabbed a heavy piece of metal shelving that lay on the ground. With a deep grunt, fueled by his newfound strength and sturdy frame, he launched it like a massive, spinning discus.
It flew above Billy, who lay still, and crashed into the two zombies, sending them tumbling in a messy heap of arms and broken bodies.
The way ahead was open.
Jun dashed the final ten meters, jumping over the rubble and sliding to a halt next to Billy. Up close, the man appeared even more troubled—his skin was pale, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his eyes carried a haunting emptiness, as if he had come to terms with his fate.
"Can you get up?" Jun let out a sharp bark, his gaze sweeping around the area. The horde was coming together again, lured by the scent of fresh blood and the echo of the crash.
Billy stared at him, then at the knife, still trying to wrap his head around the crazy strength he had just seen. It was a battle between feeling lost and just trying to stay alive. "Who the heck are you?"
"Rebecca's friend," Jun said casually, extending a hand that was smeared with blood. "I'm the one who's here to help you out. So, can you get up?"
Billy clenched his jaw. Pride and pain clashed, but in the end, survival took the lead. He grabbed Jun's forearm like a soldier would, but his hold felt a bit off, not as strong as it should've been. "My leg's messed up; I can't run."
"You don't need to worry about that," Jun said, effortlessly lifting the guy up and steadying him on his feet. "Hey, Rebecca!" Jun shouted, then pointed to a discovered path. "Check this out, the door to get in! Shine a light on this!"
Up there, Rebecca nodded.
The beam of light shifted, no longer illuminating Jun's entire path but forming a thin line of brightness that pointed directly to the vault door at the bottom of the stairs.
It was like a tunnel slicing through the darkness, guiding me towards something brighter.
But it was a real challenge. The zombies, all mixed up by the flickering light, were now crowding into that tunnel, their clumsy bodies stumbling into the beam, totally blocking the path.
Jun glanced at the injured marine propped against him, then shifted his gaze to the grotesque wall of decaying flesh that stood between them and the door.
A direct charge just wasn't an option anymore.
He needs to look out for a fresh variable.
He quickly glanced up at the catwalk, spotting Rebecca by a big lighting rig that had fallen during the blackout, all tangled up in its own cables.
"Hey, Rebecca!" He shouted, jabbing his knife towards the rig above. "The wires! Can you shoot them loose?"
She caught his eye, got it right away, and jumped in without a second thought. She steadied the Benelli against the catwalk railing, her gaze fixed not on the zombies but just above their heads.
She pulled the trigger.
BOOM.
The shotgun blast ripped through the frayed cables that were barely holding up one end of the heavy lighting rig. With a loud screech of metal ripping apart, the huge cluster of lights and steel came crashing down like a giant, swinging wrecking ball.
It slammed right into the middle of the crowd, blocking their way out just as they had planned.
The effect was catastrophic.
Zombies were crushed, thrown aside, or pinned under the wreckage. It didn't kill them all, but it created a chaotic, impassable barrier of twisted metal and writhing bodies, effectively cutting the main horde off from the door.
It showed a new, tighter path right at the edge of the arena, which had been tucked away in the deep shadows before.
The path was clear. But that noise had caught the attention of every last creature around. From the deepest, darkest pit on the far side of the arena, something new started to move—something huge, slick, and driven by a primal kind of hunger.
The Queen Leech was awakening.
••••••
The loud crash of the lighting rig was still ringing in the arena when another sound kicked in—a deep, wet squelch, like a huge slab of raw meat being dragged over stone.
It emerged from the deepest shadows on the other side, a spot where the flashlight's glow just couldn't touch.
The air felt thick and heavy, carrying a smell that reminded you of sour milk mixed with still, murky water.
Jun's Threat Sense, which used to look like a jumble of random dots, suddenly lit up with one massive, completely unfamiliar signal.
It wasn't just hunger; it felt like this huge, empty space, like a void.
The Queen Leech.
There wasn't a moment to feel amazed or scared.
"Hey, come on, let's move along the wall!" Jun's command sliced through the tense atmosphere like a sharp crack of a whip.
He shifted Billy's weight more squarely onto his shoulders, gritting his teeth as the pain shot through his leg.
Billy, trying to push through the pain, felt his soldier instincts kick in as he faced a clear and present danger.
He turned into dead weight, just someone to lug around, not a patient to be gently encouraged.
Rebecca's flashlight beam was their lifeline, slicing through the darkness to light up the path Jun had spotted: a tricky route hugging the arena wall, scattered with broken gear and slick with mysterious fluids, but free from the main horde now caught up in the wreckage.
Jun moved, not as quickly as he used to, but with the steady, strong steps of a draft horse hauling something important. His [Reinforced CellularStructure] made it easy to carry Billy, transforming what could have been a painful limp into a solid, steady march.
Every step felt strong and intentional.
Zombies creeping too close from the shadows of the wall didn't get a fancy display of knife skills; instead, they faced a straightforward, no-nonsense approach.
A solid shove with a reinforced forearm slammed someone against the concrete, making a sickening thud. A powerful, straight-legged kick connected with someone's chest, sending them reeling and crashing into the crowd behind.
They could hear it now, the squelching and dragging getting louder, creeping up behind them. A huge something started to rise up from the depths below.
"Keep moving, Billy," Jun said, his voice rough but firm. "Just keep an eye on our feet. Let me know if I'm about to stumble."
Billy, looking a bit ghostly and slick with sweat, nodded stiffly, his gaze locked on the treacherous floor as the light danced around him. It was a practical partnership, combining Jun's strength with Billy's still-there but fading sense of the situation.
They were almost at the vault door when the Queen Leech made her presence known, loud and clear.
It burst out of the shadows, not with a loud roar, but with a sharp, high-pitched scream that felt like it was rattling in their teeth and bones.
The flashlight beam swung back for a heart-stopping moment, revealing a horrifying sight: a huge, throbbing mass of shiny, white, leech-like flesh, covered in countless human-like eyes that oozed dark liquid.
Dozens of whip-like, prehensile tentacles tipped with lamprey mouths lashed out from its central mass, not toward them yet, but snatching up the nearest zombies, crushing them, and pulling them into its bulk with wet, squelchy sounds, growing larger with each gulp.
The scene was so off, so eerily strange, that even Billy, a tough marine who had faced the worst of Umbrella's monsters, couldn't help but let out a startled curse.
"Come on, Rebecca, pick up the pace!" Jun shouted up, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.
Rebecca was already strutting down the catwalk. She pulled the trigger on the shotgun with one hand, sending a blast into a group of zombies that were closing in from the front.
The loud bang gave her a moment to breathe, and then she took off running toward the ladder. They really needed that door open, and they needed it right away.
Jun got to the bottom of the vault door right when he heard Rebecca's boots thud on the floor next to him. Without missing a beat, she slammed her shoulder into the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open.
The beam from her flashlight swung back towards their path, casting light on the chilling figure that was creeping closer, a nightmare come to life.
"Hurry up, let's move!" She let out a loud scream.
Jun practically pushed Billy through the gap. Rebecca trailed behind, stepping back with her weapon held high.
Jun was the final one. As he stepped through the doorway, a quick, whip-like tentacle shot out from the shadows, trying to grab his ankle.
Jun just stood there, not even bothering to move out of the way. He dug his foot in and gave a solid kick.
His boot hit the slick, strong tentacle with a noise like a wet towel snapping. The tentacle pulled back, the lamprey mouth at the end letting out a frustrated hiss.
The kick slammed into Jun's leg, a jarring hit that made it clear just how strong the creature was, but he stood his ground.
He slammed the vault door shut with a loud, resonating BOOM, then casually spun the manual wheel-lock, sealing it tight.
On the other side, instead of a thud, there was this slow, grinding, scraping noise as the huge creature pushed against it, checking how strong it really was.
The stairwell fell into a heavy silence, interrupted only by their uneven breaths and the faint, pulsing sound of alarms echoing above.
Billy Coen leaned back against the wall, slowly sinking down to sit on the chilly steps, wincing as he held his bleeding leg.
His eyes, wide and stunned, darted between Jun and Rebecca, taking it all in. "What... what was that?" He got it out, his voice rough around the edges.
"Heart of this nightmare," Rebecca murmured, her hands shaking a bit as she eased the shotgun down.
She glanced at Jun, her face a mix of relief, shock, and an overwhelming tiredness that seemed to settle in. "So, we just shut it up in its cage."
Jun leaned back against the solid door, feeling the weight of his own strength, listening as the strange, skittering sounds on the other side gradually faded away with the creature's retreat.
They pulled it off; they snagged the package again. But the place had this heavy vibe, like a tomb, and they were still stuck inside its confines.
The loud, looming danger was kept in check. But you could see the price etched on Billy's pale face, in the shake of Rebecca's hands, and in that heavy feeling deep down, like they had looked into a dark void that was just as eager to look back at them.
••••••
Jun's Current Status:
Points: 725
Skills: Basic Strength, Lockpicking, Threat Sense, Enhanced Regeneration, Pain Suppression, Enhanced Reflexes, Reinforced Cellular Structure.
Equipment: Combat Knife, Benelli M3 Shotgun (Rebecca).
Bound Companions: None
Active Objectives: Treat Billy Coen's injuries; Find a route to the surface; Escape the Training Facility.
••••••
(End of Chapter)