The day began, not with Mallory lounging lazily in bed as usual, but with Blinky zipping around her apartment in what could only be described as a full-blown panic. Its antenna flashed red, beeping incessantly as it rammed into the furniture, walls, and even Mallory herself.
"Blinky! Chill out!" Mallory groaned, shielding her face with a pillow.
Blinky persisted, pulling the covers off her.
"What is it now?" Mallory asked, sitting up with a yawn. "Did you find another mutant rat in the pantry? Because I told you, that's Greg's problem, not mine."
The robot didn't answer—well, not directly. Instead, it projected a hologram of a nearby street. On the screen, a small group of survivors, heavily armed and clearly distressed, could be seen fending off a horde of zombies.
"Oh," Mallory said, blinking at the screen. "That looks... unfortunate."
Blinky's beeping escalated.
"Wait," Mallory said, leaning closer. "Is that Alex?!"
