Zoe wasn't sure how much time had passed since the outbreak. Hours? A day? Time seemed to stretch and warp in the stillness of Perkatory, punctuated only by the faint sounds of groaning and scraping from outside. The world beyond the barricades had descended into madness, but she had a semblance of control in the shop.
The Brewmaster's System had become her obsession. Every moment she could steal away from the mounting tension, she spent experimenting with its abilities. The interface was more than just a tool for making coffee—it was a key to something larger, something stranger. Zoe wasn't sure what yet, but she was beginning to think it wasn't just about the coffee.
"Alright," Zoe muttered, staring at the glowing interface hovering in her vision. The faint outline of icons and recipes glowed against the darkness of the shop.
She had already crafted several drinks—Tranquil Brew, which had calmed Darren earlier, and a new one called "Focus Blend," a recipe she'd unlocked after brewing a robust cup of coffee to keep watch. Each recipe was accompanied by its own set of instructions, and with every successful brew, more options appeared, leading to new abilities, recipes, and abilities she didn't fully understand.
The latest recipe that caught her eye was "Imbued Elixir."
The description was vague: Infuse a drink with abilities that alter perception, enhance senses, or bring clarity. Zoe wasn't sure how such a drink could help their current situation, but the potential was too intriguing to ignore.
She took a deep breath and began the process with the system's guidance. The first step was simple—fresh coffee beans. She ground them carefully, the familiar sound of the grinder now comforting and rhythmic. The next step in the recipe was more unusual: crushed peppermint leaves. There was a jar of dried peppermint in the back storage room. Zoe had never seen it used in coffee before, but the system was guiding her, and it had already helped her so much.
Once she had the leaves, she crushed them with her fingers and added them to the brew. The peppermint's sharp, fresh scent, mixed with the warmth of the coffee, filled the room. The system instructed her to add a single teaspoon of Ginger Root Essence. Zoe wasn't sure where she'd find that, but the next option that appeared was "Unlock Ingredient." She tapped it, and the display showed her a flashing icon for ginger root. The system quickly identified it, and the smell of fresh ginger seemed to waft into the air as the ingredient appeared before her.
With a deep breath, Zoe completed the drink, her hands steady as she poured the mixture into a mug. The drink pulsed with an odd glow—subtle but undeniable.
She stared at it momentarily, uncertainty prickling at the back of her mind. But it was no different from the others. The system had worked before. Why wouldn't it work now?
Tentatively, Zoe took a sip.
The moment the liquid hit her tongue, everything shifted.
The room felt…different. Lighter, somehow. Zoe blinked and looked around the shop. The walls seemed to breathe, the sounds of the groaning outside muffled as though a thick fog had descended around her. Her senses sharpened. Every flicker of light from the overhead bulbs, every slight creak of the floorboards, was amplified. But it was more than just the senses—there was a peculiar sense of awareness, as though she could feel the presence of everything in the room more clearly.
She stood up abruptly, but the world around her shifted like a dream, swirling in and out of focus. She lost her balance momentarily and had to steady herself against the counter.
What the hell was that?
She tried to push the weird sensation aside. The system had worked wonders before, but this was… this was something else. Zoe's heart raced. Had she just unlocked a recipe that altered perception? Was this the kind of power the system was talking about? Or had it just scrambled her brain?
"Zoe?" Darren's voice broke through her foggy thoughts. He stood at the edge of the counter, his face drawn with concern. "Are you okay?"
Zoe blinked, trying to focus on him. But his outline seemed to shimmer like he was being viewed through rippling water. She reached out to steady herself on the counter, suddenly feeling lightheaded.
"Yeah," she said, her voice distant. "Just… needed a second."
Darren didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Alright. If you say so."
Zoe shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling. There was a strange calmness beneath it, though—like her mind was stretching out, pulling in more than it should. She forced herself to move away from the counter to clear her head. But as she walked past Darren, she saw it again.
A strange flicker. He was standing too still. His face looked…too rigid. It was almost like the muscles in his jaw were locked. His eyes didn't meet hers—he stared straight ahead, frozen.
Zoe froze, too. What the hell?
"Darren?" she asked, her voice louder this time. His body twitched, and then, with a jerk, he blinked and seemed to return to reality.
"Yeah? What?"
"Are you—"
Before she could finish, a loud thud echoed from the back of the shop. It sounded like something had fallen, snapping Zoe back to the present moment. The odd, surreal feeling began to fade, leaving a lingering sense of dread.
"Sorry," Darren muttered, scratching his head. "I was just… thinking."
Zoe nodded, still feeling uneasy about what had just happened.
"It's fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Just… stay sharp."
As Zoe moved toward the source of the sound, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. It wasn't just the recipe. It wasn't just the zombie apocalypse. There was something more, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Why did Darren just freeze up like that?
She rounded the corner and found what had caused the noise. It was the toilet in the back bathroom—clogged again.
"Seriously?" Zoe muttered, exasperated. Of all the things that went wrong, this was the last one she expected. It seemed so trivial, but it was a reminder of how much everything had shifted. The mundane, the everyday tasks—clogged toilets, broken equipment—had somehow been lost in the chaos of survival. They had a zombie apocalypse to worry about, but she was fighting with plumbing.
Darren was standing by the bathroom door, looking at the plunger with a frustrated expression. "I don't get it," he said. "It was working fine earlier. I swear it was."
Zoe sighed. There was something almost absurd about the situation—here they were, trying to survive the world's end, and Darren couldn't unclog a toilet. She knew it was a small thing, but it made her pause. Everything felt so off-kilter. The brew system, the zombies, and now this. It didn't add up.
"Let me try," she said, taking the plunger from his hands. She could feel his unease, his uncertainty. His movements were hesitant, as though he wasn't sure how to go about something as simple as clearing a toilet. Had the apocalypse really hit him that hard?
Zoe kneeled and plunged into the toilet with deliberate motions. It wasn't glamorous work, but it was necessary. And in some strange way, it felt grounding, normal even. She could feel Darren watching her closely as she worked, like he was still trying to make sense of everything—the zombies, the system, the toilet.
She gave the plunger one last hard push. There was a satisfying whoosh, and the water level started to drop.
"Finally," she muttered, standing up and wiping her hands on a nearby towel.
Darren didn't say anything, but she could see the relief in his eyes. Maybe it was something so small, so mundane, that had allowed him to breathe a little easier.
Zoe washed her hands and turned back to him. "Hey, it's okay. We're all in this together, right?"
Darren gave her a small, grateful smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Zoe."
As they returned to the front of the shop, Zoe glanced at the others. They were all huddled together, quiet, watching her. The weight of everything was starting to settle in again. The zombies, the apocalypse, the strange new system she was trying to understand—it was all too much.
But as Zoe took a breath and glanced at the growing list of unlocked recipes, she felt a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe she had the tools to survive. To save them all.
One drink at a time.