The rain had turned the streets into rivers of black mud and ash, the kind that swallowed footprints before anyone could track them. It was supposed to be a simple restock run—hit the old grocery store on 12th, grab whatever cans and medical supplies were left, and get out before the undead swarmed again.

Supposed to be.

The automatic doors hung crooked, one half-torn from its frame. Theo stepped through first, rifle raised, moving like the shadows were extensions of his body. Keeho followed, bat resting against his shoulder, eyes scanning every aisle with that quiet, calculating intensity that kept the others alive.

“Jiung, we’re inside,” Keeho murmured into his earpiece.

Static crackled, then Jiung’s voice filled the comms. “Copy. Thermal shows no movement near you—yet. But don’t trust it. This place has too much metal interference. Stay sharp.”

Intak was already weaving through the debris, hopping over a fallen shelf like it was a playground. “Snacks aisle is destroyed,” he sighed dramatically. “Tragic.”

Jongseob, hauling a backpack nearly as big as himself, tripped over a broken sign but tried to play it off like he meant to do it. Theo just snorted softly.

Soul stayed near the center of the group, steps silent, eyes flicking to every dark corner. He didn’t speak—he didn’t need to. When Soul got quiet, really quiet, it meant he sensed something.

“Feels… weird,” he mumbled finally.

Keeho stiffened. “Weird how?”

Soul tilted his head, listening to something only he could hear. “Not undead.”

Jiung’s voice sharpened instantly. “Hold up—movement just flickered on thermal. Human heat signature. Small.”

Theo’s rifle lifted. Intak’s smile faded. Jongseob’s fingers hovered over his holster.

Keeho raised a hand. “Positions. Non-hostile until proven otherwise.”

Theo pointed toward the back of the store. “Storage room. Someone’s in there.”

The group approached quietly—well, except Jongseob, who stepped on a crunchy bag of stale chips and froze like he’d committed war crimes. Keeho shot him a look. Jongseob mouthed sorry.

Intak reached the storage door first, pressing his ear against the metal. He heard it—tiny, shaky breaths. Someone trying very hard not to make a sound.

Keeho nodded once. Signal to open.

Theo steadied his gun. Soul moved to Keeho’s side, hands ready on his medical kit. Jongseob took a nervous breath and tried to look intimidating.

Intak swung the door open.

Inside, wedged between crates of expired canned food, was a survivor.