In the remains of what used to be a bustling city, Zorvax jogged alongside his group, trying to keep up. The night sky was clouded, and the faint glow from the hidden moon cast long, strange shadows across the cracked pavement.
The streets were silent except for the distant groans of the undead, which seemed to come from every direction at once. Zorvax panted lightly, his breathing nowhere near as laboured as one would expect in such a situation. He kept a steady pace beside Brock, Sera, and Alicia, who seemed to be handling the whole end-of-the-world scenario with a bit more grace, thanks to their special abilities.
They turned into an alley, the buildings around them squeezing the space tight. The noise of the undead became louder, a soft but persistent reminder of the danger they were in.
Brock, a tall guy with a knack for taking charge, glanced back at Zorvax with a half-smile. "Hey, Zorvax, pace yourself, buddy," he said, the tone of his voice friendly but with an edge of teasing. "We don't want you burning out on us now."
Sera, with her eyes that could see as clear as day even in the dim light, added, "Yeah, we got enough to deal with without carrying you."
Alicia flicked her fingers, and small flames danced across her fingertips. "You're doing great, just try and keep up," she encouraged, her voice was soft but firm.
Zorvax felt a twinge of annoyance at their comments but tried to shrug it off. "I'm doing my best here," he said, a little out of breath. "Don't worry about me."
Their journey continued, with the occasional zombie appearing from a shadowed doorway or behind a trash can, only to be dispatched by one of the group's awakened members. Zorvax could only watch, feeling a mix of gratitude and uselessness.
"Guys, can we slow down a bit?" Zorvax asked after a while, wiping sweat from his brow.
Brock stopped and turned, putting a hand on Zorvax's shoulder with a surprising gentleness. "Look, Zorvax, you know we can't do that," he said, his voice almost apologetic. "The dead are right on our tail."
Sera peered into the darkness, her eyes focusing on something Zorvax couldn't see. "We don't have time for this," she said matter-of-factly.
Alicia stepped forward, her eyes meeting Zorvax's. "We have to keep moving, but don't worry, we'll help you through this," she reassured him, though the flicker of her flames seemed to cast doubt on her words.
Their conversation was cut short when a small group of zombies emerged from a side street. The group acted quickly, with Brock and Sera taking the front. Alicia held back, her flames ready as she whispered to Zorvax, "Stay close to me."
Zorvax felt a surge of gratitude towards her and nodded, staying close. He didn't have their strength or powers, but he wasn't going to give up. He fought alongside them, swinging a broken pipe he'd picked up.
The fight was chaotic, with groans and the sound of blows landing on rotting flesh. Zorvax managed to hold his own until, out of nowhere, a shove from behind sent him stumbling forward. It was Brock, looking over his shoulder with a mix of frustration and urgency.
"Sorry, Zorvax, but we gotta move!" Brock shouted over the noise.
Zorvax regained his balance and pushed forward, the circle of zombies closing in around them. He threw a look back at his companions, a silent plea in his eyes, but they were already turning away, leaving him behind.
"Wait!" he called out, his voice cracking.
"We can't!" Sera called back, her figure receding into the darkness.
Alicia didn't speak, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before she turned and followed the others, her flames lighting the way.
Surrounded, Zorvax fought desperately, his pipe swinging wildly. He was outnumbered, and deep down, he knew it was hopeless. A zombie grabbed his arm, and he felt teeth sink into his flesh. He yelled out, not just in pain but in betrayal.
As his consciousness faded, a strange sensation took over. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him, a rush of energy that he'd never felt before. But the darkness came too quickly, and he couldn't hold on to the waking world.
Away from the mayhem, the group didn't stop. They couldn't afford to look back.
Alicia let out a heavy breath. "It's survival of the fittest," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
"We do what we must," Sera agreed, scanning the road ahead.
And Brock, with a sombre look that didn't quite reach his eyes, concluded, "That's the way it is now. We keep going."
---
The days passed quietly in the remnants of the city that had once thrummed with life. The streets, now a canvas of silence and decay, were occasionally disturbed by the moans of the undead that roamed aimlessly. Where Zorvax had been betrayed and left to die, an eerie stillness reigned, as if even the shambling creatures avoided the place out of respect—or fear—for what had occurred.
It was on a day that seemed no different from the rest that something peculiar happened. A figure, staggering slightly more purposefully than the others, emerged from the gloom. It was a zombie, yet there was something unusual about it. This one paused, head cocking to the side as if listening to a distant sound.
That zombie, bearing a striking resemblance to Zorvax, seemed to be wrapped in a cloak of confusion. Unlike his mindless kin, there was a spark of something behind those hollow eyes. A hint of awareness that should not have been there flickered within the depths of his gaze.
In the murky light, a translucent screen appeared before him, ethereal and seemingly out of place in this world. On it, text floated, providing information that the once-human mind within the zombie struggled to comprehend:
---
[Name: Zorvax]
[Race: Zombie]
[Ability: Pain Immunity]
[Evolution Points: 0]
---
Zorvax's hands, now gray and peeling, reached out hesitantly toward the floating words. To his surprise, his fingers met no resistance, moving through the text as though it were made of smoke. Yet, the words remained steadfast before him, glowing slightly as they hovered in the damp air.
"This... what is this?" he grumbled, the words scraping their way up his throat, raw and unfamiliar.
Despite the grotesque transformation of his vocal cords, the screen before him reacted, pulsing gently as if in recognition of its viewer.
Within the muddled remains of his mind, Zorvax felt a surge of something like hope. Could this screen, this 'Zombolution System,' be the key to shedding the fetters of his zombified state?
"Evolution Points," he rasped, his voice sounding like the dragging of chains. "If you're my ticket to... to something more, then I'm not giving up."
The screen responded once more, providing Zorvax with options that were seemingly interactive:
---
[Evolve]
[Check Stats]
[Exit]
---
With a mental nudge, Zorvax selected "Check Stats." The screen changed, displaying a list that detailed his current attributes:
---
[Name: Zorvax]
[Race: Zombie]
[Level: 0]
[Ability: Pain Immunity]
[Evolution Points: 0]
---
The figures were disheartening, but the very existence of this system implied possibility, change, and growth. As he focused on the screen, he pondered his next move. The world around him, draped in shadows and despair, seemed to fall away. This was his path now, a journey not of flesh and blood, but of will and fortitude.
Zorvax concentrated on the [Evolve] option, a guttural sound of determination escaping his throat. The screen shimmered with anticipation. It was the beginning of something new, a chapter in which the discarded and forgotten could rise, could fight back.
He might have been a zero, a nothing in this world overrun by death, but Zorvax felt a drive rekindling within his chest—a chest that no longer needed to breathe, yet somehow was full of a new kind of life.