Upon arriving back at the Mansion, Ego began listing the combat test results for the MV-01 armor.
"MV-01 Armor Combat Report: Total use duration, two hours and 24 minutes; remaining battery power, 3%—battery life is within expected limits. Strength, speed, and durability are all up to standard. Armor sustained minimal damage, and the cushioning system meets safety standards. Final evaluation: MV-01 armor is operational and battle-ready."
Zack nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "So, in real conditions, the battery lasts about two and a half hours."
"Yes, sir," Ego confirmed. "However, under intense combat, battery life may drop to two hours or less."
Zack nodded, unsurprised. He had factored this into his design, sacrificing a bit of battery life to reinforce the armor's defenses.
Inside the Mansion, Sophia had already heard his footsteps approaching. Waiting by the door, she practically lit up when she saw him. "Welcome home!" she greeted warmly, her relief evident as she rushed forward.
Zack opened the armor's visor, smiling at her. "Mission went smoothly. You can safely walk around the Mansion now, just don't go too far."
Sophia's face lit up with joy. She wrapped her arms around him, planting several soft kisses on his cheek, the light fragrance of her hair filling his senses. The gentle touch eased the tension and the lingering smell of blood from his mission, leaving him momentarily breathless.
"If it weren't for this armor, I don't think I could resist…" Zack whispered playfully in her ear, causing her to blush.
"Now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as her cheeks turned red. "It's... it's still daytime…"
Chuckling, Zack set her down gently and stepped back. After heading down to the basement, he removed the graphene battery from the armor to recharge. Once the battery was charging, he walked back to the elevator.
"Ego, enter sleep mode for two hours," he instructed.
"Understood, sir," Ego replied, then went silent, slipping into standby mode.
Meanwhile, several miles away, in a steel plant on the outskirts of an industrial park, the heavy metal door creaked open just enough for a man to peer out cautiously. Narrow, sharp eyes scanned the area before retreating back inside.
"No zombies. Coast is clear."
At his signal, the door opened just enough for people to squeeze through, and seven or eight individuals shuffled out one by one. They were gaunt, their eyes sunken, and their frames fragile from days without proper food. Two men with pistols followed, clearly better fed and healthier than the rest. One of them, Ivan, barked orders, waving his gun.
"Move it! Daylight keeps the vampires away, so get out there and find something to eat!" He looked at the starving group with a wicked grin. "Remember, if anyone comes back empty-handed, the boss will turn you into tonight's dinner."
His threat sent a shiver through the group. They knew all too well that Ivan wasn't bluffing; the boss had already killed and dried several of their own into jerky as a gruesome warning.
"Move faster!" Ivan yelled at a middle-aged man lagging behind. "You're slower than your own wife!"
"Yes, yes, I'm hurrying," the man muttered, quickening his steps, eyes fixed on the ground.
Beside Ivan, another guard, John, smirked, nudging him with his elbow. "Hey, Director Sean, your wife's doing well. If it weren't for the end of the world, a beauty like her would be out of our league, right? Don't get stingy now."
Director Sean kept his gaze lowered, clenching his fists as he walked, his eyes red with a mix of anger and despair that he dared not reveal. Leaving the steelworks, Ivan led the group cautiously across the industrial park to another factory. The door of the factory bore a familiar mark—a symbol from one of their own.
"This is the place," Ivan muttered, exchanging a glance with John before turning to the weary group. Raising his gun, he barked, "You all, get inside! Go straight to the canteen and bring out all the food and water. And remember, if anyone sneaks a bite… you know what'll happen."
He then shifted his gaze to Factory Director Sean, his expression laced with mocking menace. "Mr. Factory Manager," Ivan sneered, "make sure you don't mess this up. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your son, right?" He chuckled darkly. "If you fail, your wife might still be of use…but your son…"
"No, please, Sir Ivan," Director Sean pleaded, his voice breaking as tears welled up. "Don't hurt my son. He's just a child…"
Ivan patted him on the shoulder with a wicked grin. "Relax. As long as you and your wife are good little workers, your son will be safe." With a silent nod, Sean led the group inside. As they moved through the dark, abandoned corridors, a few of his employees couldn't hold back their frustration.
"These monsters… they're not human!" one of them whispered bitterly. "Rocky and the others… turned into dried meat by those animals."
Another, an elderly worker, shook his head in defeat. "What can we do? They have guns. We're barely surviving."
"But how much longer can we live like this?" a younger man choked out, his gaze fixed on Sean. "Director, if we keep going like this, they'll find out about Annie sooner or later… she's just a kid…"
At the mention of his daughter, a flicker of life returned to Director Sean's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resignation. "Now isn't the time… Ernest, let's just gather the supplies and leave."
One by one, the others followed his lead. Only Zell, the youngest of the group, hesitated, his fists clenched as he watched the others walk away. A desperate resolve ignited within him. "Either way, it's a dead end," he muttered to himself, slipping off in a different direction.
Ten minutes later, as Director Sean's team reached the canteen and began gathering supplies, a bone-chilling roar echoed through the factory, its pitch unlike anything human.
"Vampire!" someone screamed, and in an instant, they dropped everything, bolting for the exit.
Director Sean glanced around, only to realize that Zell was missing. His heart sank. When he and the others reached the factory entrance, Ivan and John were nowhere in sight. That's when he saw Zell sprinting from the underground parking lot, something dark and menacing close on his heels.
"Ernest, run!" Director Sean shouted, but just as Zell was about to reach the safety of the sunlight, a black shadow lunged from behind. Claws dug into his shoulders with unearthly strength, tearing him apart mid-step.
"Ernest!" Director Sean cried out in horror as his friend's son was ripped to shreds. His shout caught the attention of the creature—a Night stalker, similar to the ones Zack had seen earlier.
The stalker dropped Zell's mangled body and turned toward Director Sean, baring its fangs. At that moment, the Night stalker burst from the darkness into a sliver of sunlight, letting out a furious scream as its pale skin smoked and sizzled. With a painful howl, it stumbled back into the shadows.
Director Sean and the others took this chance to flee, running until they left the factory far behind. None of them noticed the Night stalker watching them intently from the darkness, waiting.