The power of example is endless.
Seeing this, the rest of the squad also tossed their weapons aside and raised their hands in defeat.
An Enderman teleported in front of Zack, its violet eyes calmly fixed on him.
"Move."
Two emotionless syllables came clearly from a mouth that should never have been able to speak.
Zack was utterly stunned.
"You can talk? What kind of monsters are you?"
...
Command Center.
Watching the survivors already under full control on the screen, Steve issued new orders at once.
"Tell Engineering to throw up a separate, obsidian-built temporary interrogation room outside the base—now."
He was being thorough.
Who knew what bizarre abilities these apocalypse survivors might still be hiding?
If they got inside the base and took some important Villager scientist hostage, casualties might be avoidable, but it would still be a headache.
Isolating them was safest.
After all, there wasn't a single real human in the base; if anyone were taken hostage, he could simply order a self-destruct and respawn a few days later.
Engineering worked fast.
Almost the instant the order dropped, hundreds of Engineering Endermen outside the World Zeta Outpost Base swarmed like busy bees, hugging slabs of indestructible obsidian as they began madly printing.
Teleport, place, teleport again, place… Within minutes a pitch-black obsidian cage shot up from the ground, leaving only a three-metre gap at the entrance.
Several warriors unceremoniously hauled Zack and his terrified teammates to their feet.
Next moment.
Zack felt the world blur into shards; a violent spatial wrench set his stomach churning.
He couldn't teleport himself, but in the apocalypse he'd heard that only the rarest, most powerful Awakened Ones might ever manifest spatial abilities.
Yet now— he watched his teammates flickering through violet smoke, and those expressionless black monsters.
"All these monsters can actually space-shift?"
A thought that made his very soul shudder surged through him.
What kind of terrifying beings were they?
Before the shock could wear off, the chain of jumps ended.
When his feet touched solid ground again he stood in front of a pitch-black, oppressive, bizarrely blocky structure.
"What is this? A house? How can it be so perfectly square?"
Zack and his companions stared at the unreal building assembled from flawless black cubes, utterly bewildered.
Behind them, on the distant skyline, the giant zombie called Tyrant was still locked in brutal combat with the endless steel torrent, the rumble of artillery echoing faintly.
"Inside."
The warriors gave them no time to think, shoving them roughly into the obsidian interrogation chamber.
Once all were in, several Endermen lugged huge obsidian blocks and slammed them shut, sealing the only exit tight.
"Hey, what are you doing? Why block the door?"
A scout shouted in panic.
The Enderman blocking the door answered coldly without turning.
"To keep you from running."
After that, it ignored them.
Inside, the room blazed with light.
Zack and the others were split into separate cells; the walls bristled with cameras and sensors he couldn't even identify, recording every move.
Unease grew in his heart.
To command such vast tech and those terrifying monsters—whoever stood behind them was far beyond his imagination.
Soon two Shadow Marine Warriors entered, sat at the table across from him, and locked him in their violet gaze.
The interrogation began.
"Name."
A voice devoid of feeling cut through the silent room.
"Zack."
Zack swallowed and answered honestly.
"Out there everyone calls me Zack."
The Shadow Marine Warrior ignored the nickname and continued mechanically.
"Where are you from and which faction do you belong to?"
Zack hesitated.
But under those violet stares he gave up resisting.
He knew lies were pointless against such overwhelming power.
If they could capture them alive, they could just as easily kill them.
"I… I'm from the Wind-Grit Survivor Base."
"Purpose of coming here?"
"There was a huge energy surge here earlier; our boss Garry sent us to check it out."
In the Command Center, Steve listened to the simultaneous translation and understood.
So the commotion from that earlier Thermobaric Bomb bombardment had finally drawn the local snakes out of their holes.
Inside the interrogation room, the next question stunned Zack.
"Tell us how the zombie outbreak in this world began."
What?
Zack jerked his head up, disbelief written across his face.
What had they just asked?
How the zombies started?
To someone who'd struggled through a decade in this apocalypse, it sounded as absurd as asking a modern man "why do you eat?"
It was common knowledge carved into everyone's bones.
And they didn't know?
Coupled with their unheard-of army, unseen black monsters, and tech that felt almost obsolete in the apocalypse, a terrifying idea that shattered his worldview formed in his mind.
"Are you aliens?"
he blurted.
"You're not from this world, are you?"
A tidal wave of dread surged inside him.
Yet the Shadow Marine Warrior merely regarded him coolly, voice still icy.
"I ask, you answer. Not the other way round."
No denial.
They hadn't denied it.
That silent admission crushed every last shred of hope in Zack's heart.
It was over.
He could already see his future.
He'd likely become their living dictionary on this world.
And to keep that secret, they would absolutely never let him go.
At that thought, the last flicker of resistance in Zack's eyes died, replaced by deep helplessness and despair.