Ali descended the steps to the ground floor, his heavy boots thudding on the concrete, as the zombies below began to shamble in his direction with a strange, jerky urgency. Some stumbled over each other in their eagerness to reach him, driven by the mindless hunger that animated their decaying bodies. The first zombie to approach him received a powerful kick straight to its chest.
CRASH
The zombie flew backward, colliding into the crowd behind it and sending a cluster of undead crashing to the ground like a grotesque wave. Without missing a beat, Ali swept his quinque in a wide, horizontal arc. The blade sliced through multiple zombies at once, severing torsos from waists in one fluid motion.
Their upper bodies slid off, collapsing onto the ground, while the lower halves crumpled where they stood. Ali didn't slow down as his crimson blade danced through the horde, a precise instrument of destruction as it carved a path through the undead mass.
Everywhere his muscle-like weapon went, it left a trail of carnage. Zombies fell in droves, their bodies reduced to mangled heaps. Ali moved with lethal grace, his movements almost rhythmic, as he continued to thin out the swarm blocking his path with staggering efficiency.
A zombie lunged at him, jaws snapping, and he drove a punch into its abdomen with a force that caused its stomach to rupture, entrails spilling out as the creature collapsed at his feet. Ali spun, his red sword whistling through the air, and brought it down on a cluster of zombies reaching out to claw at him.
SLASH
The quinque sliced through them, cutting each in two, their bodies falling in broken halves to the ground. Ali continued this merciless advance, dispatching the undead in large swaths while making sure to slice through any solid structures that might serve his purpose.
Pillars of stone, partitions of wood-anything that could be useful in fortifying the entrance was struck down as he moved, his mind already formulating his strategy for securing the ground floor once he cleared it of the horde.
The fight dragged on for another three relentless minutes, Ali's movements never slowing, his stamina a testament to his incredible physique. Finally, he was the last one standing in the vast, shadowy expanse of the ground floor plaza.
The six-foot-eight juggernaut loomed in the silence, his chest rising and falling as he surveyed the aftermath. His blood-red quinque rested heavily at his side, and only the occasional groan of dismembered zombies crawling weakly across the floor broke the stillness.
Ignoring the broken undead, Ali strode over to a towering concrete pillar that stretched from floor to ceiling in the middle of the plaza. He retracted the quinque back into its compact handle form, fastening it at his side. Then, clenching his fist, he delivered a calculated punch directly into the base of the pillar.
The blow shattered the base of the column, causing it to tilt and begin its descent toward the floor. Ali positioned himself beneath the massive structure as it toppled, and it crashed down onto his right shoulder with an earth-shaking impact.
The force was so immense that it dislocated his shoulder instantly, the pain slicing through him like fire. Yet Ali held his ground, standing resolute as his body healed itself, the bones knitting back together in mere seconds.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, and black veins pulsed across his skin as he channeled his strength. He took a lumbering step forward, the enormous pillar balanced on his shoulder, his muscles coiled with the weight of it.
A stray zombie was crushed underfoot as he moved toward the entrance, its head reduced to pulp beneath his heel. His steps were heavy, methodical, each one echoing with purpose as he bore the massive pillar toward the gap in the entrance barricade.
"Come on. Just like he used to do it," Ali murmured, memories of his old bodyguard flickering through his mind. Drawing on that memory, he summoned a final surge of strength, spinning his body in a powerful arc, and swung the pillar around in a calculated release.
The column rotated once in midair, crashing down precisely at the entrance with a resonant boom.
B0000000000M
The pillar struck the floor with devastating force, the ground quaking beneath it as it landed squarely in place, sealing off the entrance entirely.
Any remaining gaps from the giant sign were obliterated, and the reinforced obstruction now blocked the way with enough solidity to withstand the relentless pressure of the horde outside.
With the entrance finally secured, Ali exhaled deeply, his gaze moving across the room to the scattered heaps of corpses. Cold determination filled his eyes. "Now, it's time for you bastards to stop moving forever," he muttered, striding purposefully toward the remaining zombies crawling across the floor.
It didn't take long for Ali to put an end to the struggling undead. His blade moved swiftly, cutting down the remnants with ruthless efficiency. Once the last of them lay motionless, he scoured the ground floor, gathering anything solid he could find-furniture, debris, shattered stone fragments-and heaped it against the barricade, reinforcing it further.
By the time he was done, he had built a near-impenetrable barricade, a veritable fortress that even the combined strength of the horde couldn't breach.
Ali looked upon his work, satisfied. 'This should hold them off, he thought, casting a final glance at the entrance before turning to inspect the rest of the floor. Clearing any lingering threats, he finally moved to the stairwell and began his ascent to the next level.
As he climbed, he tapped his blade against the walls, generating a steady clanging noise that reverberated through the stairwell, loud enough to rouse any lurking zombies. But as he advanced past the fifth floor, he noticed a decline in the undead presence.
By the time he reached the twelfth floor, the building was almost eerily quiet, the floors strangely empty of the rotting husks he'd encountered below.
''Maybe because the skyscraper is open and there's no noise coming from the upper levels, the zombies chose to stay outside or on the lower levels', Ali thought as he closed and marked the door of the twelfth floor.
Ali continued his steady climb, marking each cleared floor as he went. Most levels bore signs of decay and neglect, but the higher he went, the fewer zombies he encountered.
Occasionally, he stumbled upon a lone, severely decayed corpse, barely capable of movement. He dispatched each one swiftly, progressing until he reached the twenty-fifth floor, where he found evidence of what had once been a biochemical laboratory.
Ali examined the crumbling desks, long-abandoned equipment, and scattered papers, though most were too faded and rotted to yield any useful information.
'This place was definitely a biochemical company, he noted, observing the shattered glassware and rusted machinery. "From the lab setup, it looks like they were working on something extensive. Too bad everything here is so degraded-it's impossible to figure out what they were up to.'
Letting the old documents slip from his hands, Ali moved on, closing the door behind him and making his way further up.
The next few floors were devoid of life altogether, reinforcing his theory that the undead had long since abandoned the higher levels. Eventually, he reached the twenty-ninth floor, a section that bore the marks of deliberate destruction.
Ali scanned the room, his sharp eyes noticing details that hinted at a calculated effort to dismantle the lab. 'This looks less like zombie damage and more like sabotage, he thought, studying the broken machinery and shot through computer screens.
He moved carefully, examining the wreckage with an expert's eye, piecing together the signs of human interference.
At the far end of the floor, he came upon an office that seemed to belong to the head researcher. Ali entered, the stale air thick with the scent of dust and decay.
The office was ransacked, its shelves empty, but as he sifted through the remnants, he discovered a single journal, its pages yellowed yet surprisingly intact.
Ali skimmed through what pages were still legible, and as he read, pieces of the story fell into place. Once he finished, he set the journal down, his expression unreadable. 'So they were developing a chemical weapon, one intended for use against a rival nation. But that nation sent a spy, someone who sabotaged their research and, unknowingly, unleashed the virus that sparked this apocalypse!'
The revelation stirred something within him—a mixture of understanding and a satisfaction in knowing the story behind the ruin around him.
Yet, he was only momentarily distracted by this discovery. Setting the journal down, he exited the room and ascended toward the skyscraper's final floor, where he anticipated his last encounter with the undead in this building.
With each step, Ali prepared himself, his grip tightening on his weapon as he climbed. The task of clearing this building was nearing its conclusion, and with one last push, he would clear the building completely. He reached the top floor, his senses sharpened, ready to bring his blade down on any zombie that dared to stand in his way.
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