The moment Theresa heard the plan, her tense eyes suddenly lit up. She ran through the idea in her mind in a single second. Only one problem came to mind. "But when we build the makeshift bridge, you'll have to hold off the zombies," Dominic said. "No problem," Theresa answered without hesitation. She pulled on a mask, opened the door, and jumped out first. The toxic fog ahead would reach them in no more than two minutes. "Two minutes!" "Got it!" Dominic, Louisa, and the rest rushed out of the truck. They grabbed steel plates from the vehicle and materials from their domains to build a temporary bridge. "Quentin, help them!" "Yes, Beautiful!" Quentin called back as he sprinted to join them. Orren climbed out next. Seeing everyone hard at work, he ran to lend a hand. While they moved frantically, Theresa stood behind the truck, facing the oncoming tide of zombies—an ocean of decay rolling toward them like a black wave. The air filled with guttural roars. Zombies stumbled forward, heads twisted, limbs dragging, their clothes tattered beyond recognition. There were men and women, the old and the young—some in business suits, others in gym clothes, dresses, even pajamas. Each corpse still wore the remnants of who they'd been in life, but whatever humanity they once had was long gone. Every face gaped open, jaws stretched wide. They had only one instinct left: to feed. To them, living humans were the most intoxicating scent imaginable. They wanted a bite of warm flesh, a mouthful of sweet blood—and if they were lucky enough to taste a fresh organ, it sent them into a frenzy. Theresa raised her blade. The first zombie lunged.Steel flashed. One clean strike—and its head flew. Then came another swing. And another. The arcs of her blade were so fast they blurred into a shimmering wall of light. No zombie broke through. She stood like a fortress—one woman holding back an army. With Theresa guarding the rear, everyone else could work without fear. Orren, hammering planks into place, looked up. He'd stopped questioning whether these were evolved zombies or not. At this point, none of that mattered. He had never seen anyone fight like this. She wasn't just strong—she was unstoppable. Behind her was a no-man's-land, cleared clean by her strikes. Her combat power alone could rival Solan's entire team of ability users. "Keep working!" Theresa's voice rang out. "One minute left!" Her words lit a fire under the others. They moved faster, desperate. The pale green fog had already reached the station's edge. It was almost upon them. And Theresa's blade was no longer enough. There were too many. The thunder of a thousand undead echoed like war drums. No longer hundreds. Not thousands. Tens of thousands. Orren's hands trembled. The boards slipped from his grip. His chest tightened with fear—raw, humiliating fear. He rarely went out to fight zombies. His sister never allowed it. Back when the outbreak first began, he'd awakened a speed-type ability. During that chaos, when his sister had nearly bled out, he'd carried her on his back through a sea of the dead, saving their uncle and aunt's family along the way.He had been the only man left in their family—the one everyone depended on. But being the only man had its price. After Solan rescued them, his sister could no longer have children. Orren became the family's last hope, the one she refused to risk on the battlefield. He hated hearing people say he survived only because of Arwen and Solan. He believed he was strong on his own—hadn't he once fought his way out of hell? That was why he came here—to prove it. But now, he finally realized that all his confidence had frozen four years ago. He hadn't grown stronger. He'd only been protected. And now, standing in the face of the horde, he had no strength left to speak of. Theresa had been right when she called him out. The ground trembled beneath his feet. Orren looked up in horror—three giant zombies were charging straight at them. For a second, the world stopped. He knew. They were finished. "Move! Forty seconds left!" Louisa shouted beside him. Orren stood frozen, whispering, "We're doomed."