A young man with bck hair crouched behind a door, peering through the narro. He could see the pale figure of something—or someone—approag him. His heartbeat pounded, quiing with each step it took closer. He gnced around and grabbed a bat lying nearby, clutg it tightly.

  The creature was ing, and he khere was no way to avoid it. Running past it wouldn’t help; more would likely follow. He swallowed hard, brag himself as he waited for it to ehe footsteps echoed in his ears, eae a grim warning. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, and as the dan to creak open, he swung the bat with all his strength.

  The bat struck the pale figure square in the chest, crushing its ribs. Blood sprayed across the floor, spttering onto him, and he fell to his knees in shock, staring at his attacker. Just a few ho, this creature had been his neighbor. They hadn’t been close, but they’d always exged a smile and a nod whehey passed in the hallway.

  “Is it… is it over?” he gasped, his breath ing in heavy pants.

  But it wasn’t. The creature let out a guttural growl and cwed its way across the floor toward him, its fingers digging deep into the tile. He froze, eyes wide with panic, but adrenaline surged through him, clearing his mind of hesitation. This wasn’t his neighbor anymore; it was a monster. Life or death. He gripped the bat tighter, raised it, and smmed it down on its head again and again.

  Sweat dripped from his forehead as he kept swinging, not stopping until the creature finally y still. Breathing heavily, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. But just as he thought it was over, pain exploded in his neck. He felt himself yanked backward, powerful hands grabbing him from behind.

  “Arrgh!” he screamed, the agony overwhelming him as his life slipped away.

  Zack jolted awake, gasping, his eyes wide in shock as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers in disbelief. "Wasn’t I eaten by a zombie? How… how am I still alive!?"

  Suddenly, he remembered something and gnced frantically at the dar on the wall.

  December 13th

  The a virus Zeta variant had broken out two days ago, transf 80% of humanity into mindless, flesh-craving zombies ht. Civilization had colpsed instantly, like the switch of a light.

  Though Zack was one of the lucky 20% who survived, his fortune hadn't sted. Just two days ter, zombies had broken into his apartment, and he had joihe ranks of the undead himself.

  "Did I… get a sed ce?"

  Zack forced himself to calm down, pieg things together. He had been reborn.

  A wave of shock washed over him as he stumbled to the window, peering out at the street below. It was a sight he'd never fet—ruireets littered with debris, thick smoke p from shattered buildings, cars smashed into each other, and a vast, staggering horde of zombies aimlessly wandering the streets. They staggered in every dire, groaning mindlessly as they cshed with one another.

  Oreet below, he reized some of the zombies gathered around the buildirahey were ohe familiar faces of his neighbors. These very same zombies had broken into his apartment st time and ended his life.

  "No way am I letting that happen again!"

  His face hardened with determination as he yanked a dusty baseball bat from under his bed. Digging around, he found a few nails and hammered them into the bat’s head, creating a crude but deadly mace.

  As he tightened his grip o, his fear started to fade. He was done waiting around to die. This time, he would fight back.

  Just as he reached for the door, a calm, meical voice sounded in his head.

  "Sir, if you proceed outside now, your ces of survival are nearly zero."

  Zack froze, his grip tightening o. "Who… who’s there?!"

  "Sir, I am your intelligent assistant, Ego."

  The voice sounded real, but the ft, synthesized torayed its artificial nature.

  "Ego…?" Zack whispered, the name sparking reition. "Wait a sed… Are you Tony Stark’s AI butler from Iron Man?"

  "No Sir, Cht God will surely smash this world if that is the case. I am your intelligent assistant, dedicated t you above all others."

  "Hold on a minute… let me catch my breath."

  Zack took a deep breath, struggling to process what he was hearing. His mind reeled as he remembered a cssic rule from the novels he loved—regressed mc often had a cheat-like advantage, some kind of "system" to help them survive.

  "Guess mine is… Ego?" he muttered, half in disbelief.

  He sighed, a bit disappointed. After all, Ego was an AI, not a fighter. It’s not like Ego could physically help him fend off zombies. But he couldn’t afford to waste time.

  "So, Ego… what exactly you do?"

  "Sir, I am equipped to assist in your survival. After analyzing the area, I’ve identified 18 ways to create effective ons from avaible resources. I suggest making an air nail guilizer bombs, Molotov cocktails, and bait to improve your odds."

  Ego then listed the items he’d need, even marking their exact locations around the apartment.

  "A fertilizer bomb?" Zack repeated, blinking in surprise. "Wait… sodium nitrate. I get it now!"

  In the midst of what seemed like a hopeless situation, Zack suddenly saw new possibilities. Survival might be possible, as long he follow Ego suggestion.

  Fueled by newfound resolve, Zack quickly gathered the materials scattered around his apartment. There were fire extinguishers, alcohol, a few smoke arms, AA batteries, aluminum s, and even a half-bag of fertilizer left by the previous tenant.

  Some of the items needed a bit of dismantling.

  "Sir, please uhe front panel of the air ditioner, and use the screwdriver to yht to turn terclockwise," Ego instructed in his usual calm voice.

  "Ego, do you think I'm clueless?" Zack grumbled while prying open the air ditioner. "I know which way to turn a screw."

  "Uood, sir."

  With Ego’s instrus, Zack carefully assembled the makeshift nail gun. The main po was a modified fire extinguisher, the barrel was crafted from copper piping in the air ditioner, and the nails served as makeshift bullets.

  It looked crude, but it was plete.

  "Will this really work?" Zack mumbled, a hint of doubt in his eyes. He poihe nail gun at the wall and pulled the wooden trigger.

  Bang!

  The screws burst out, embedding deep into the wall and leaving a visible dent.

  "Whoa! That’s… incredible!" he gasped, wide-eyed. This thing owerful as a pistol, yet it barely made any was the perfebie-killing on.

  "Sir, be aware that the nail gun’s power depends on the pressure in the fire extinguisher. After about eight shots, it will lose it’s effectiveness."

  "Noted," Zack replied, nodding. He couldn’t expect miracles from an improvised on, but its power had already exceeded his expectations.

  "So, Ego," he asked, brimming with curiosity while preparing the fertilizer bomb, "besides on-making, what else you do?"

  "My database includes all kind of data for example Tech ons, the blueprint for the Zero Poior, blueprints for power armor, and formus for the Superpower Serum …”

  Zack froze mid-step as Ego tinued listing off capabilities, eaore mind-blowing tha. His hands trembled, and a slow smile spread across his face. He remember reading about zero poior, it capable to produergy out of nothing.

  It was no exaggeration to say that Ego’s database was like a glimpse into the future, a treasure trove of teology easily a hundred years ahead of anything oh. Perhaps eveuries ahead. There were nearly a hundred different power armors within it, from normal armor to even one made using nanomae.

  But Zaew better than to get cocky. He uood that these were just blueprints, information stored in Ego's memory banks. Until he made it out of this apartment alive, they were as good as dreams.

  “Ego, let’s keep going,” Zack said with renewed focus.

  “Uood, sir,” Ego responded.

  Taking a deep breath, Zack resumed assembling the makeshift bombs and indiaries. Soon enough, he had fihe fertilizer bombs and Molotov cocktails. Only the bait was left.

  Just as he was w on the final screws, he heard a loud, frantiging downstairs, followed by a desperate cry for help.

  The voie from a female, and she was clearly in serious trouble. The sound of wood splintering reached his ears, and he realized the zombies had discovered someone in the apartment below—a female streamer, if he recalled right.

  But he knew better than to try and help. Within moments, the sound of her door shattering filled the air, and her scream ended in abrupt silence. Zack tensed. Last time, the zombies had discovered him shortly after breaking into her pce.

  “Focus,” he muttered to himself, speeding up his work on the bait.

  A few mier, the device—a crude bait crafted from a smoke arm—was ready. Holding it tightly, he approached the window and sed the street. Most of the zombies outside had been attracted by the otion below, crowding into the hallway around the sed-floor apartment.

  “Hope this works,” he whispered, then hurled the bait out of the window. It nded on the wn of the buildi door with a loud, wailing sound.

  The moment the high-pitched sound reached them, the zombies went wild, abandoning their current targets to follow the sound. Even the zombies from the adjat building began to ge dire.

  “Sir, you have seventy-five seds,” Ego’s voice alerted him calmly.

  “Got it.” Zack slung his prepared backpack over his shoulder, grabbed the nail gun, and opened his apartment door.