Xenon took a quick look around.
What had started as a fair—almost embarrassingly easy—engagement had escalated into something else entirely. Something wrong. The air itself felt heavier now, thick with rot and motion, with the wet scrape of dragging feet and the hoarse, animal growls of the dead.
To make matters worse, the zombies they had already put down—the ones whose heads were still intact—began to stir.
One by one.
Arms twitched. Spines cracked as they bent the wrong way and then corrected themselves. Milky eyes snapped open again, glowing faintly with that same sick awareness. Most of them were the ones Xenon had killed.
They rose slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep.
What Xenon would learn later was simple and unforgiving: if a zombie's brain was not completely destroyed, or its core removed, it was never truly gone.
The entire squad began to back off instinctively as the horde closed in, boots scraping against broken asphalt and shattered concrete. The two Hunters led the charge.
At that point in time, Xenon didn't know what Hunters were.
But even without the system's explanation, he could see it.
They stood out.
Where the other zombies moved with sloppy hunger, the Hunters were… composed. Their posture was upright. Their movements deliberate. Their heads turned not randomly, but tactically—tracking positions, watching angles, anticipating motion.
They looked more human.
Cassandra raised her Assault rifle and fired, the blast tearing through the air toward the nearest Hunter.
It dodged.
Not by luck. Not by accident.
It leaned aside with an economy of motion that made Xenon's stomach tighten, the pellets screaming past where its skull had been a fraction of a second earlier.
Xenon tightened his grip on Grave Point.
The spear felt heavier than before, its weight uneven, almost resistant in his hands. He scanned the horde, searching desperately for an opening—any gap he could exploit—but he knew the truth even as he looked.
He couldn't break formation.
Not without getting someone killed.
"Hunters organized this ambush!" Cassandra shouted over the cacophony of growls and snapping jaws. "They're coordinating the attack! We take them out, and the rest of the zombies go back to being mindless Shamblers!"
Her voice was sharp, commanding—but Xenon could hear the strain beneath it. She was trying to keep them together. Trying to believe her own words.
Then his vision flickered.
⚠ WEAPON SYNCHRONIZATION ERROR
DESIGNATION: SPEAR
NAME: GRAVE POINT
COMPATIBILITY DROP: 25%
Xenon blinked.
"What…?"
The warning repeated, this time accompanied by a low, intrusive hum that vibrated behind his eyes.
Before he could react, Grave Point began to tremble.
At first it was subtle—a faint shiver running along the shaft. Xenon tightened his grip, assuming it was recoil from the fight, from adrenaline.
It wasn't.
The vibration intensified, traveling up his arms, rattling his bones. The spear felt alive now, straining forward like a hunting animal that had caught a scent.
"No—stay—" Xenon muttered, bracing his feet.
The vibration became violent.
Then, in a single heartbeat, Grave Point lunged.
The force ripped Xenon off his feet, dragging him forward like dead weight behind a thrown weapon.
"Xenon! Don't break formation—that's what they want us to do!" Malachi yelled, panic cracking through his voice.
But Xenon wasn't choosing this.
Grave Point drove straight into the nearest Hunter, the impact powerful enough to send both Terminator and zombie hurtling backward.
The ground beneath them gave way.
The world dropped out.
They crashed through collapsing asphalt and stone, plunging into darkness as the earth swallowed them whole.
Cassandra felt her blood run cold.
The crash exposed a cavern beneath the battlefield, jagged stone tearing open like a wound. Dust and debris erupted upward, momentarily blinding the squad.
Xenon was gone.
"The weakest member," Cassandra thought grimly. "Isolated. Alone. With a Hunter."
He stood no chance.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
The second Hunter surged forward, and the horde followed.
"We stand and fight," Cassandra said, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her chest. "We have no choice now."
She raised her rifle and fired, blowing apart the head of a Shambler that got too close. The squad shifted from defense to aggression, desperation fueling their movements.
Cassandra charged straight for the remaining Hunter.
Malachi and Jim moved in tandem, blades flashing. Their short sword and machete were made for close quarters, and within minutes, severed heads littered the ground, rolling beneath their boots.
For the first time since the ambush began, it looked like they might actually survive.
Kira wasn't so lucky.
Her shotgun barked, but the recoil threw off her aim. The pellets tore into a charging zombie's shoulder instead of its skull.
It didn't slow down.
It slammed into her, fingers clamping around her throat as its jaws descended.
"Kira!" Jim screamed.
He reached her just in time, machete flashing upward in a brutal arc. The zombie's head came off cleanly, tumbling aside as its body collapsed.
Jim dropped to his knees beside her.
She lay gasping, blood soaking into her armor, eyes wide with shock.
"Stay with me," Jim begged, pressing his hands against the wound. "Stay with me."
Far below the surface, Xenon groaned.
Pain flared through his body as he forced himself upright, lungs burning. The air down here was cold and damp, thick with the smell of earth and decay. Jagged stone walls closed in around him, forming what looked like an ancient underground tunnel.
Grave Point was still in his hands.
He hadn't let go. Even when it had betrayed him.
Looking up, Xenon realized there was no easy way back to the surface. The hole they'd fallen through was a distant circle of faint light far above.
Then he felt it.
Movement.
The Hunter stirred.
It rose slowly from the rubble, unhurried, as if the fall had been nothing more than an inconvenience.
In the dim light, Xenon finally saw it clearly.
The Hunter's body was tall and unnervingly intact, its feminine form twisted only subtly by death. Pale skin stretched too tightly over lean muscle, veins dark and webbed beneath the surface. Its face was almost beautiful—high cheekbones, sharp jawline—but the eyes ruined everything. Flat.
Empty. Cold. No hunger. No madness.
Just intent.
Its mouth split into a grin far wider than human anatomy allowed, revealing rows of darkened teeth.
For a brief, terrible moment, Xenon hesitated.
This thing had once been human.
Someone with a name. A life.
The thought lasted less than a second.
The Hunter exploded forward.
The impact of its strike sent Grave Point flying from Xenon's hands, the spear skidding across the stone floor with a metallic scream. Xenon himself slammed into the tunnel wall, the breath crushed out of him.
Pain flared through his ribs.
He barely had time to roll aside before claws tore through the space where his head had been.
Xenon scrambled to his feet, grabbed Grave Point, and forced himself into a combat stance.
His system screamed warnings.
⚠ SYNCHRONIZATION UNSTABLE
⚠ MOTOR RESPONSE DELAY
⚠ WEAPON FEEDBACK DETECTED
Every movement felt sluggish, like fighting underwater.
The Hunter attacked again.
Xenon parried—but the impact numbed his arms. The force behind the blow was monstrous, each strike threatening to shatter bone. He countered, thrusting the spear forward, but the weapon lagged, the tip missing by inches.
The Hunter laughed.
He tried to use his energy surge ability but this was even less effective.
A sound like broken glass grinding together.
It grabbed the shaft of Grave Point and wrenched it sideways, slamming Xenon to the ground again. Stone bit into his back, knocking the air from his lungs.
"Move," Xenon growled, forcing himself up.
Blood trickled down his forehead, blurring his vision.
The Hunter lunged, claws tearing into his shoulder this time. Pain exploded through him, sharp and real.
But Xenon didn't fall.
He twisted with the blow, using its momentum. His grip tightened. He drove Grave Point upward with everything he had.
The spear pierced the Hunter's torso, impaling it through the chest.
It shrieked, thrashing violently, slamming Xenon into the tunnel wall again and again. His vision swam. Something cracked in his side.
But Xenon held on.
With a final, desperate scream, he twisted the spear and tore upward.
The Hunter collapsed.
Silence fell.
Xenon dropped to one knee, gasping, blood dripping onto the stone.
⚠ TARGET TERMINATED
⚠ CORE DETECTED
DESIGNATION: B-TIER
RECOMMENDED ACTION: HARVEST
The Hunter's body convulsed once more before going still.
Xenon reached into its chest and pulled free a faintly glowing core, warm in his palm.
TARGET ELIMINATED
SECOND KILL CONFIRMED
TARGET DESIGNATION: LOW TIER HUNTER
REWARD ALLOCATED
STAT INCREASE DETECTED
VITALITY: +2
ADAPTATION: +1
WEAPON SYNCHRONIZATION: PARTIAL
Above ground, the battle finally ended.
When Cassandra made her way to the cavern, she expected the worst.
She expected a body.
Instead, she found Xenon kneeling in the darkness, bruised, bloodied—alive.
A dead Hunter lay at his feet.
A glowing core rested in his hand.
Cassandra's grip tightened on her weapon.
For the first time since meeting him, she felt something cold settle in her chest.
A lot of questions flooded her mind.