The morning sun bled through the thin curtains of the faculty office, signaling the start of a new, harsher reality. The group moved in silence, washing up as best they could with the remaining mineral water before sharing a grim breakfast of juice boxes and dry biscuits.
Once the meal was finished, Primo stood up. The air in the room shifted; he looked different today—sturdier, more focused. He laid out the plan he had discussed with Wyn during their watch.
"We need to get stronger," Primo said, his voice echoing in the quiet office. "I'm going to stay here for a while to hunt for gene cores and level up. I won't force any of you to come with me. You have two choices: stay here and wait, or head toward the hospital shelter I told you about."
Wyn nodded in support, having already pledged his bat to the cause. But among the others, the mood was heavy with hesitation.
The reality of "hunting" monsters was more than most of them could stomach. Sheena and Myra looked pale; they were exhausted and terrified, their minds fixed on the promise of a guarded shelter with walls and soldiers. They didn't want power; they wanted safety.
Alan and Ben exchanged a look. They weren't warriors, and they felt a responsibility to protect the girls on the road. Pyro stood up last, his eyes hollow. "I'm going to the shelter too," he said quietly. "I need to find a way to contact Gwen's parents. They need to know... they deserve to know what happened."
In the end, the decision was made. Pyro, Alan, Ben, Sheena, and Myra would head for the hospital while Primo and Wyn would remain at the school.
They divided the supplies carefully. Primo insisted they take the lion's share of the food and water for the journey, while he and Wyn kept enough for a day or two, confident they could scavenge more. They armed themselves with the maintenance tools—shovels, rakes, and heavy shears.
Before they left, Primo focused his Great Ear. He strained his hearing, mapping the sounds of the campus for hundreds of yards. "The path to the north gate is clear for now," he told them. "Stay low, move fast, and don't stop for anything."
With final, somber nods of gratitude, the five students slipped out of the faculty building. Primo and Wyn watched from the window until their silhouettes disappeared past the school gates.
The school felt unnervingly large now. Without the sounds of sobbing or whispered fears from the others, the silence was absolute—and dangerous.
"Just like old times, huh?" Wyn said, trying to break the tension, though he gripped the handle of his axe tight. "Just you and me against the world."
Primo looked at his friend. With his Infrared Vision, he could see the steady, warm pulse of Wyn's heart. He could also see faint heat trails in the hallway outside—small, scurrying things that hadn't been there yesterday.
"Not just against the world, Wyn," Primo replied. "We're going to own it. We need to find your evolution points."
Primo and Wyn didn't leave immediately. They took the time to prepare. Using a steel pole from a scavenged rake and the kitchen knife they'd found, Primo fashioned a much sturdier makeshift spear. Wyn gripped his axe, the weight now feeling natural in his enhanced hands.
They left their heavy bags in the faculty room to ensure they could move with maximum agility and locked the door behind them. The faculty building was a two-story structure with four rooms on each floor. Primo's senses had already told him the building was relatively clear of major threats, which is why he had chosen it as their camp last night.
They stepped out into the hallway of the first floor. The air smelled of old paper and dust, but beneath that, Primo's Great Nose caught a sharp, musky scent.
"Third room," Primo whispered, pointing down the hall.
They crept toward the third room—another faculty office cluttered with desks, chairs, and stacks of ungraded papers. There, clinging to the wall, was a mutated house lizard. It wasn't the small, harmless creature they were used to; this one was as thick as an adult's leg, its skin a mottled, sickly grey. It watched them with bulging, unblinking eyes, its tail twitching with predatory intent.
"Pincer move," Primo signaled.
They split up, moving to trap the lizard between them. Primo initiated the attack, thrusting his new spear with a burst of speed. The lizard was incredibly fast; it leaped from the wall, its sticky pads making a loud thwip sound as it landed on a desk and scurried toward Wyn.
Wyn swung the axe in a wide arc, but the lizard dodged by banking left, disappearing under a cluster of chairs.
What followed was a frantic ten-minute game of cat and mouse. The lizard was agile, darting between table legs and hiding behind stacks of books. Primo and Wyn were breathing hard, their shoes scuffing against the floor as they lunged and parried. Even with their enhanced stats, the creature's natural instinct for survival made it a difficult target.
Finally, they cornered it in the back of the room. Primo saw his opening. He lunged, his spear biting deep into the side of the lizard's torso, pinning it firmly to the floorboards.
"Now, Wyn!"
Wyn didn't hesitate. He brought the axe down in a heavy, vertical strike, crushing the lizard's head instantly. The thrashing tail went limp.
The two of them collapsed onto their butts right there in the middle of the room, surrounded by scattered papers and overturned chairs. Their chests heaved in unison.
"Man..." Wyn panted, wiping sweat from his eyes. "That was just... a house lizard. Why was that so hard?"
"Because it doesn't want to die any more than we do," Primo replied, leaning his head back against a desk. He looked at the lizard's carcass. "And because we're still learning how to use our bodies. We can't just rely on raw strength; these things have instincts we don't."
It was a sobering realization. If a single mutated lizard took ten minutes and left them this exhausted, they had a long way to go before they could consider hunting other mutated beasts. They need a proper plan.