The helicopter blades roared like thunder as the burning skyline of San Francisco faded into the distance. Shang-Chi sat near the open hatch, his arm still wrapped in a golden, pulsating energy—the last remnants of his father's Ten Rings sealing away the infection that should have killed him.
Xu Wenwu was gone, swallowed by the endless tide of the undead.
Katy sat beside him, trembling but silent, clutching the only photo she had of her mother. Jimmy Woo was near the cockpit, reloading his pistol with shaking hands, while Death Dealer—once Wenwu's loyal assassin—now piloted the aircraft with stoic focus.
No one spoke. The world they knew had ended in fire and blood.
•••
Five years later.
The wasteland that had once been the United States stretched endlessly around them—a broken canvas of shattered cities, overgrown highways, and rusted vehicles. What had started as a desperate escape had turned into a nomadic existence.
Shang-Chi, Katy, Jimmy Woo, and Death Dealer had become hardened survivors. They had fought through countless undead swarms, mutant creatures, and human raiders twisted by desperation. But the worst weren't the zombies—it was the living.
That morning, they were driving across what used to be Texas in an armored truck pulling a small trailer. Inside were three cows—living, breathing animals, worth more than gold now. Their milk could sustain a small group for weeks.
Katy sat in the passenger seat, scanning the horizon through binoculars. "It's so weird," she muttered. "Five years ago, I was worried about rent and student loans. Now I'm worried about cows."
Woo chuckled dryly from the back, where he was cleaning his rifle. "Welcome to the apocalypse, kid. Rent's free, but so is death."
Shang-Chi smirked faintly but kept his eyes on the road. "Let's hope these cows are enough to get us through the gates this time."
Death Dealer, sitting silently beside Woo, only nodded. He had rarely spoken since Wenwu's death. He had been a shadow even before the fall—now, he was more ghost than man.
Their destination lay ahead: the legendary City on the Sea. A floating metropolis off the coast of New Orleans, rumored to be built on old oil rigs and repurposed cargo ships. Other rumors claimed it was safe—heavily fortified, self-sustaining, and ruled by a council of surviving heroes and scientists.
Of course, another was a prison that was meant to lock up the worst criminals.
If they could reach it, maybe they'd finally stop running.
As the truck rumbled down an old highway, the landscape began to change—swampy marshes and patches of wild vegetation reclaiming the asphalt. A sense of uneasy calm filled the air.
Then, the calm shattered.
A beam of green energy sliced through the front of the truck, blowing out the windshield. The vehicle veered sharply before Shang-Chi slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt.
"Ambush!" Woo shouted, rolling out of the back and taking cover.
Figures emerged from the trees—five of them, all wearing scavenged armor and wielding advanced alien rifles. Their skin shimmered and shifted, revealing green hues beneath torn human disguises.
"Skrulls," Death Dealer hissed, drawing his twin blades.
The lead Skrull—a tall female with scars down her jaw—sneered. "We'll take the livestock and the truck. Leave now, and maybe we'll let you live."
Shang-Chi stepped forward, cracking his neck. "Sorry, we kind of need the cows."
The Skrull grinned. "Then you die for them."
Blaster fire erupted.
Shang-Chi darted forward, weaving between energy bolts. His fists glowed faintly with golden light as he struck—not with the Ten Rings, but with the refined martial flow his father once taught him. He slammed his palm into the first Skrull's chest, sending her flying into the dirt.
Katy fired her scavenged rifle from behind the truck, shouting, "Hey, leave the cows alone, you green jerks!"
Woo moved methodically, taking cover and returning fire, dropping one Skrull with a well-placed shot to the head.
Death Dealer spun through the melee, his blades slicing clean through the air, deflecting energy beams and cutting down two more attackers before they could reload.
The last Skrull, realizing the fight was lost, tried to flee—but Shang-Chi was faster. He threw a metal pipe like a spear, pinning the alien to a tree. The forest went quiet again, save for the distant mooing of their terrified cattle.
Katy let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You know," she said, lowering her rifle, "five years ago, I never thought I'd say this—but I hate space people."
Woo chuckled tiredly. "Join the club."
Death Dealer wiped his blades clean, his mask tilting toward Shang-Chi. "We should move. More could come."
Shang-Chi nodded, glancing toward the horizon. "We're close. Let's not stop now."
By dusk, they reached what remained of New Orleans. The once-lively city was now half-submerged, streets swallowed by rising tides and broken levees. Makeshift shanties and barricades marked the coastline.
Cables stretched for miles offshore, lit faintly by solar lamps and guarded by patrol boats. It looked like something out of a dream—or a memory of civilization.
As they approached the checkpoint, a dozen armed guards aimed rifles at them from the walls.
"Identify yourselves!" one shouted through a megaphone.
Woo raised his hands. "Jimmy Woo! Former S.H.I.E.L.D.! We've got live livestock to offer—three cows, healthy, unbitten!"
There was a long silence, then murmuring among the guards.
"Cows, damn. Finally something fresh."
"Quite." A man said, and then he looked at them. "You bring livestock, you get a place," he said curtly. "Follow the signal lights. Don't cause trouble."
~~~
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