Carl stalked through the darkened streets, his heavy boots kicking up dust with each step. The air crackled around him, a subtle hum of power he had grown used to since the mutation. His element—lightning—seemed to be a natural extension of his thoughts now, sparking and flickering whenever his emotions surged. But for all his power, there was something... off about this world.
He had seen it all. The chaos of the initial outbreak, the collapse of human civilization, and the rise of a new kind of order among the infected. But despite the primal hunger he felt as a zombie, Carl had always been able to think clearly. To him, the apocalypse wasn't the end of things—it was a new beginning, a chance for something more.
That's why Jenna intrigued him.
When he'd first seen her, mindlessly hoarding supplies, he couldn't help but wonder what her deal was. She was powerful—her spatial abilities gave her an edge over most zombies—but her mind was... lacking. She wasn't like him, a level-headed zombie with a goal. She was a mess of confused, dumb thoughts, yet something about her seemed oddly... important.
Carl smirked to himself. Maybe it was her persistence. She hoarded things with the tenacity of someone who believed it still mattered. Her ridiculous attachment to the remnants of human life was laughable. Supplies? For what? Zombies didn't need food, shelter, or any of that. What they needed was strength—power.
"Crystals," Carl muttered under his breath, thinking of the precious shards inside human brains. They were the key to evolution, for both zombies and humans. They enhanced abilities, heightened intelligence, and made him stronger. And yet, Jenna was out here, collecting blankets like she was preparing for a camping trip.
He had thought about explaining it to her, really explaining it, but he didn't have the patience for her cluelessness. When they met, he realized she didn't even know about the crystals. She was hoarding for the sake of hoarding—because her half-zombie brain didn't know what else to do.
But maybe... maybe there was potential there. If Jenna could tap into her powers and focus on what mattered, she might become a real force to reckon with. Carl had never met another zombie with space abilities, and if she learned to use them effectively, she could be more than just a bumbling supply hoarder.
He frowned, thinking about their last conversation. Jenna's awkward attempt to justify her hoarding with some nonsensical story about using supplies as bait for humans had made him chuckle. She was hopeless in that regard, but he couldn't deny that she had something valuable—her determination, even if it was misdirected.
Maybe it wasn't his job to guide her. Carl wasn't a mentor. But he wasn't about to let her waste her power either. He needed allies, and Jenna—despite her shortcomings—might be the strongest ally he could find in this broken world.
"Let's see what you can really do, Jenna," he muttered to himself as he walked off into the night, the air sparking around him. The apocalypse had changed everything. And it was about to change Jenna too—whether she knew it or not.