They didn't look back.
The air behind them warped, and the meat slapping against the concrete echoed like drums underwater. Racks collapsed. Metal groaned. Somewhere near the exit bay, Rendclaw screamed.
It wasn't a screech.
It was worse.
A wet, guttural vibration rattled Logan's ribs and made Chris gag as they sprinted into the light leaking from the torn front gate.
Logan vaulted a broken delivery ramp and landed in the red grass outside, rolling once and coming up on one knee. His bow was in hand. Arrow nocked.
Chris stumbled through a second later, one sleeve soaked in sweat and blood from a gash that hadn't even registered yet.
"You good?"
"Not bitten," Chris panted. "Just metal."
They ran again—no time to check the wound, no time to breathe. The System pulsed behind Logan's vision.
Threat Proximity: REDEvade Path CalculatedSuccess Chance: 41%Reward On Escape: Skill Advancement + Temporary Faction Morale Boost
They ducked into a distorted alley that warped like glass pulled by gravity. The path flickered. At one point, Chris ran straight through a wall that Logan was sure had been solid.
Then they were out.
The distortion ended as abruptly as it had begun. One second, the air was thick with tension and nausea; the next, it was cold and quiet. The neighborhood returned around them—bent fences, warped lamp posts, ash floating lazily in the stillness.
Chris dropped to his knees, coughing violently.
Logan didn't stop moving. He scanned the perimeter and activated a flare trap by the yard's edge.
A faint green pulse shimmered into the air—camouflaged, but active. If anything passed through that perimeter, it would light them up like a beacon.
Chris wiped blood from his lips.
"What the hell was that thing?"
"Guardian. Zone core mutation."
"You've seen one before?"
"No."
They stood in silence for a beat. The red sky above had begun to darken to a deeper hue, less like sunset and more like the inside of an infected wound.
Chris looked at Logan differently now. Not with fear. Not even distrust.
With calculation.
"You're planning something," he said. "More than just surviving."
Logan did not respond. He reached the bunker's side entrance, opened the code-locked hatch, and waved him in.
Once sealed, the pressure hissed like breath exhaled from a dying lung.
Logan immediately removed the satchel from the main chamber and placed it on the center table. The nanoplastic sheets shimmered faintly, like oil slicked with light.
The System pinged.
New Crafting Materials AcquiredBlueprint Branch Unlocked: Defensive Expansion Tier 1Nanoplastic FrameworkField Fortification – Type: ModularEffect: Structural Reinforcement + Turret Base Slot
Chris leaned over the table, studying the glowing icons.
"So this is your thing," he muttered. "Crafting. Building. Not just scavenging for supplies—you're upgrading."
"I'm preparing," Logan said. "You saw what's out there. We don't just need food. We need control. Territory. Ground that won't betray us."
Chris nodded slowly, but his eyes didn't leave the interface.
"I wasn't kidding earlier. I can pull weight. That thing back there? It could've torn me in half, but I still moved. Still shot. I didn't freeze."
"You want a role," Logan said.
"I want to live."
The System pinged again.
Survivor Request: Role Assignment AvailableSuggested Position: Scout or Combat SupportWarning: Trust Level Below Threshold for Command PrivilegesOverride Option: Available (Requires Base Expansion Level 1)
Logan stared at the screen.
He could assign Chris a role right now, making him part of the framework. He could be tied into the daily loop of responsibility, resource management, and even combat tactics.
But it came with a risk.
The more you included others, the more you depended on them.
The more they could betray you.
He selected Combat Support – Provisional.
Not full access.
Just enough.
Role Assigned: Combat Support – ProvisionalChris Rourke now contributes to active defense missions and emergency scavenging assignments.Loyalty Monitoring Enabled.
Chris raised an eyebrow when he saw the text pop up.
"I'm in?"
"You're on watch. That's the first step."
Chris chuckled. "You're a cold bastard."
"Cold survives."
They fell quiet again. Logan moved to the command board and pulled up the updated map. The distorted zone around the distribution center had grown—not just in size but in layers. A new sector had appeared further east, gray and flickering.
Unknown.
Chris leaned over his shoulder.
"There's more of them."
"Yeah."
"How big do you think this will get?"
Logan didn't blink.
"Global."
Chris exhaled. "Then it's not just us. There's gotta be others. Groups forming. People are building bases like this. Trade routes, scav teams, hell—maybe even politics."
Logan's face hardened. "People don't build. They fight. They hoard. They burn everything for power."
Chris looked at him. "What are you going to do when they find us?"
The System answered for him.
Base Management Threshold ReachedFaction Leadership Tree AvailableWould you like to initiate Faction Creation?Y/N
Logan didn't answer right away.
He stared at the screen.
Then he tapped N.
Not yet.
The bunker was secure. The weapons were clean. The food was enough for now.
But outside, the world was mutating.
And it wasn't just monsters anymore.
It was civilization.
Twisted. Rebuilding itself. One outpost at a time.
Logan turned away from the screen and sat down slowly at the workbench.
He pulled a damaged drone carcass from the storage rack and set it on the table. He grabbed a soldering pen and cracked his knuckles.
"Tomorrow," he said.
Chris looked up. "What?"
"Tomorrow we build a turret."