The scratching at the door had finally stopped.
Zenjiro stood frozen in the corner of the community center. His hands gripped the crowbar so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Around him, people were crying. Praying. Staring at nothing with empty eyes. The attack had lasted maybe two hours. It felt like months.
Miraza sat against the wall beside him. Her breathing was still rapid and shallow. "Are they gone?" she whispered.
"I don't know," Zenjiro admitted.
He was supposed to be protecting these people. He was supposed to be tackling those beasts outside. Using his Shadow Crane training to eliminate threats and save civilians. That was what Master Kurogane would have done. That was what any real operative would have done.
But he had just stood here. Frozen. While those things clawed at the door.
Because they were not just beasts. They were people. People who had been human this morning. People who had families waiting for them at home.
He could still see the face of the creature that had attacked them earlier. The one that used to be Mr. Sato, his math teacher. The one who had tried to say students but could only manage broken sounds.
"Zenjiro," Miraza said softly. "You're shaking."
He looked down at his hands. She was right. They were trembling uncontrollably. Not just from fear. A strange tingling sensation spread from his fingertips up through his arms. Like electricity crawling beneath his skin.
"I'm fine," he lied.
Outside, the snarling and screaming that had filled the air for the past few hours finally began to fade. He could hear new sounds now. Organized voices. Coordinated movements. The disciplined efficiency of trained operatives doing their job.
The Shadow Cranes had arrived.
"Listen." Mrs. Hayashi, the woman who had checked them for bites earlier, pressed her ear against the door. "It's getting quieter out there."
She was right. The chaos was dying down. Whoever had responded to the crisis was actually winning.
After what felt like an eternity, someone knocked on the door.
"This is Shadow Crane Unit Seven," a male voice called out. "The immediate area has been secured. A medical bus will arrive any time soon. Either you stay here for them to come to you, or meet them at the bus."
Mrs. Hayashi looked around at all of them as if asking for permission. When no one objected, she slowly unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Three operatives stood outside in full tactical gear. Their uniforms were marked with the distinctive crane insignia. Behind them, the street that had been a warzone was now eerily calm. Bodies lay scattered across the pavement. Some human. Some beast. Some somewhere in between. More Shadow Crane members moved through the area. Checking buildings. Securing positions. Medical buses lined the area.
"Are any of you injured?" the lead operative asked. "Has anyone been bitten or scratched?"
People started filing out slowly. Carefully. Still afraid. The operatives checked each person as they emerged. They looked for signs of infection.
Zenjiro hung back with Miraza. He waited until most of the others had left before approaching the exit.
That was when the pain hit.
It started in his fingers. A sharp, stabbing sensation like needles driven under his fingernails. He gasped and nearly dropped the crowbar. His hands felt like they were trying to tear themselves apart from the inside.
"Zenjiro?" Miraza grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just..." The pain shot up his arms and exploded behind his eyes. For a second, he could not see anything except white hot agony. His vision went blurry. Then dark around the edges. "I need a minute."
He stumbled outside into the street. He tried to get air into his lungs. The pain in his eyes was getting worse. Like something was pushing against them from inside his skull.
The street was full of people now. Survivors emerged from buildings. Shadow Crane operatives coordinated the response. News crews had somehow already arrived on the scene. Cameras and lights were everywhere. Capturing footage of the aftermath.
He could hear a reporter speaking urgently into a microphone. "We're witnessing unprecedented scenes here as the Shadow Cranes, previously an underground organization, have been forced to reveal themselves publicly to combat this threat. We're getting reports that the situation is finally under control."
Zenjiro staggered toward an abandoned car and caught his reflection in the side mirror.
His breath stopped.
One of his eyes. His left eye. It was bright red. Not bloodshot red. Glowing red. Like a coal burning in his skull.
"Hey! You there!" A news camera swung toward him. The reporter waved enthusiastically. "You were one of the survivors inside, weren't you? Can you tell us what happened?"
The cameraman started moving closer. The lens was about to point directly at his face.
He turned and ran.
"Wait! Sir!"
He did not look back. He just ran through the street. Weaving between operatives and survivors and abandoned cars. Trying to get away from the cameras. The lights. The people who would see what he was turning into.
His vision was doing something strange. Colors were too bright. Sounds were too loud. He could hear conversations from blocks away. Could smell things he should not be able to smell.
He turned a corner and pressed himself against a wall. Gasping for breath. His hands were burning now. The pain spread through every finger.
"Zenjiro!"
He looked up to see Natami running toward him. He was relieved that she spotted him.
"Thank God," she said as she slowed down. "I've been searching everywhere. When the reports came in about the attack at the community center, I thought you might have been..."
She trailed off as she got closer. Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face.
"Don't look at me," he said. He turned away from her. "Just go back. Tell them you didn't find me."
"What are you talking about? Zenjiro, what's wrong?"
"Everything." His voice came out strangled. "Everything is wrong. I think I'm infected, Natami. I don't know how, but something is happening to me."
"Let me see." She moved around to face him, but he turned away again.
"No. You can't see me like this."
"Like what?" Her hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around forcefully. "Let me look at you properly."
He squeezed his eyes shut. He did not want to see her expression when she looked at his face. Did not want to see the disgust.
"Open your eyes," she said finally.
Slowly. He opened his eyes.
She was staring at his whole face. Studying him carefully. Then she chuckled and reached up to fix his messy hair. "I don't see anything. You look human to me. You're just overthinking this. Maybe you caught PTSD from the whole thing. I know it's crazy, but stress can make you feel all kinds of weird."
"I saw it in the mirror."
"What mirror?"
He turned toward the reflective window of an abandoned car. Both his eyes were completely normal.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered.
"You're stressed and exhausted," Natami said.
"When was the last time you slept properly? When was the last time you ate?"
He could not remember.
He blinked. Had he really seen it? Or had his mind been playing tricks on him? The pain had been so intense. His vision had been blurry. Maybe he had imagined the red eyes. Maybe it was just the reflection of the emergency lights or the news cameras.
"We need to get some civilians somewhere safe," Natami said. She glanced around quickly.
Movement caught her eye. She looked past him toward a narrow alley between two buildings. "There," she said quietly. "Survivors hiding."
He turned and saw them. A father, mother, and young daughter huddled in the shadows. The little girl looked maybe six years old. She clung to her mother's leg.
Natami started toward them with her hands raised in a peaceful gesture. "It's okay. We're here to help. The beasts in this area have been dealt with. You're safe now."
Zenjiro followed behind her. Drawn by something he could not explain.
The mother clutched her daughter tighter. The father stepped forward. He positioned himself protectively between his family and them. He was trembling but trying to look brave.
"We're Shadow Crane operatives," Natami continued. "We've secured this sector. Come with us and we'll take you to a shelter."
The father took another step forward. He moved into better light.
That was when Zenjiro smelled a strong chemical scent. Burnt copper. Something that made every nerve in his body scream danger.
His vision sharpened until he could see individual veins pulsing beneath the man's skin. Black veins spreading up his neck. He could hear his heartbeat. Faster than it should be. Could see the way his pupils were slightly dilated.
"Infected," he whispered.
One second Zenjiro was standing beside Natami watching the family.
The next second everything went black.
It was like someone had turned off all the lights in his mind. Something emotionless took control of his body. The consciousness piloting those movements was efficient. Cold.
He walked toward the man as black claws spun out from his fingertips.
"Are you infected?" he asked smoothly.
Natami raised an eyebrow. "Zenjiro, what is wrong with you? You are scaring the kid. Back off."
"I don't know what you mean. I don't think I have any infection!" The man showed his hands and turned his neck left and right to prove his innocence.
"False." Zenjiro curved his lips into a wild smile.
A translucent blue screen flickered into existence before his eyes. Only he could see it. Lines of data scrolled downward in a waterfall of digital information as he scanned the man.
[TARGET ANALYSIS]
RACE: HUMAN VARIANT
TARGET: ADULT MALE - 1.76M - 73KG
SCANNING...
HEART RATE: 142 BPM - ELEVATED
BODY TEMPERATURE: 38.9°C - ABNORMAL
CHEMICAL SIGNATURE: DETECTED
STATUS: ACTIVE CARRIER
> COMPOUND X-7 CONCENTRATION: 47%
> NEURAL DEGRADATION: STAGE 2
> ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL CONVERSION: 4-6 HOURS
VIRAL LOAD: CRITICAL
THREAT LEVEL: HIGH
JUDGMENT: ELIMINATION
"Back, Zenjiro! Don't make me use my blade on you."
Before she could blink, Zenjiro lifted his hand.
He slashed through the man's throat.
The infected man's neck opened and red mist filled the air.
Then Zenjiro ran toward Natami in a flash. He stopped instantly with his hand extended toward her neck. Black claws dripped with blood.
"Are you infected?" he asked.
He pointed one sharp claw directly at her throat.
Then the pain in his chest spiked intensely.
The claws retracted and his hand dropped. He stumbled backward while gasping for air.
"What..." He looked at his hands, at Natami's terrified face, and at the father's body lying on the ground behind him. Blood spread across the pavement. "What did I do?"
Natami watched him with shaking breath. She slowly reached for her blade but her hand was unable to move. She had never seen anything like that before. She was only used to tackling night beasts that were slightly similar to oversized wild animals, or the new outbreak of humans turning into mindless beasts.
But this was different.
He had changed and unchanged in the space between heartbeats. Reality itself could not seem to decide what he was.