Zack froze, his expression twitg. “Did I seriously design this suit just for you to feel fortable farting?!”

  “Rex, I was just joking.” Erza grinned mischievously.

  “Whatever. As long as you’re happy,” Zack muttered, shaking his head as he headed back to the basement. Just then, Ego’s voice cut in.

  “Sir, the LSI satellite has captured clear images of survivors at the boratory. Would you like to review them?”

  Zaced at the satellite footage projected by Ego. On the s was an older man, likely in his te forties or early fifties. He had a schorly aura, his tall frame a pristine white b coat. Gold-rimmed gsses perched elegantly on his hooked nose added a refiouch to his demeanor.

  But that wasn’t what caught Zack’s attention. Behind the man stood seven ht armed survivors, holding a mix of shotguns and rifles. However, it was the two hulking figures fnking them that drew Zack’s focus. her human nor zombie, they looked like grotesque amalgamations of human and animal parts, haphazardly stitched together into monstrous forms.

  Ego’s voice chimed in. “Samson Edward, only referred to as Dr. Samson. Formerly the chief physi at Bellevue Hospital”

  “Yale alumnus with dual doctorates in surgery and physiology,” Ego tinued. “It is likely he’s developed some form of biological modification teology.”

  Zack eyed the two monstrosities in the image. “Those things are definitely not natural,” he muttered. The thought clicked. These creatures were the reason Dr. Samson dared to establish a base iy ter—a hub teeming with zombies.

  Zack’s voiterrupted Zack’s train of thought. “Let’s go meet him,” he said, seg his MV-02W suit with the help of a meical arm.

  Before leaving, Zack took a quick che the produ line for his meical is. The basement had already ed out three new manufacturing units, with a fourth nearly plete. “Ohis batch is done, halt i produ,” Zastructed Ego. “Switch focus to assembling spiders, then resume Ant output ter.”

  “Uood, sir,” Ego replied smoothly.

  Satisfied, Zack exged a few words with Annie and then unched into the air. Within seds, he accelerated to Mach 1.3, the soni eg as he disappeared into the sky.

  South Manhattan, once a bustliropolis, had bee a nightmarish pyground for the undead. Zombies filled the streets, their groans f an eerie chorus. Zack sed the city below, frowning. “Am I imagining things, or are there way more mutated zombies here than in other pces?”

  Ego chimed in. “It’s possible, sir. Poputioy might py a factor.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Zack shrugged off the thought, fog instead on his dest. He lowered his altitude as he he biological boratory.

  Unbeknownst to Zack, he was being watched. On a nearby rooftop, a pale, ugly man with disturbingly gauures tracked Zack’s movement through a pair of binocurs. His skin was so sickly white it was hard to tell if he was human or something else entirely.

  Grabbing his walkie-talkie, the man spoke into it. “Dr. Samson, we’ve got a humanoid craft heading your way.”

  A deep, calm voice replied through the static. “Uood.”

  The man packed up his equipment and walked off the rooftop, sauntering fidently into the street. The zombies milling about paid him no mind, parting as he passed. Zack hovered above the b, taking in the yout. It was located o a uy, with a hospital not far away—the very hospital where Dr. Samson had once worked.

  “Strange choice for a base,” Zack muttered, noting the poor strategic location. But on closer iioiced several upgrades.

  The fences had been raised and reinforced, with ptforms installed for seo patrol. A few armed survivors stood on the walls, their guns trained on Zack as he desded. Despite their ons, they hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do.

  Zack smirked. “Looks like Dr. Samson knows how to run a tight ship.”

  He nded with a resounding boom, his suit leaving a cracked crater on the t. “D-Don’t move!” one of the guards shouted, his voice shaking. “Or we’ll shoot!” Their fear was obvious. None of them had the o aim directly at Zack, their guns wavering unsteadily.

  Zack raised his hands mogly. “Rex. I’m just here to see your boss, Dr. Samson.” Without waiting for a response, he activated his thrusters, vaulting over the gate.

  “Stop! If you move any closer, we’ll shoot!” anuard yelled.

  Zack’s Vul mae gun swiveled instantly, log onto the guards. The whirring sound froze them in pce. “I wouldn’t reend it,” Zack warned, tinuing toward the b without even turning around.

  The guards exged panicked gheir faces pale. Before they could decide on their move, a voice rang out. “Put the guns down!” Dr. Samson stepped out of the b, his white coat fluttering as he waved frantically at the guards. “Stand down! Now!” Relieved, the guards quickly lowered their ons.

  Zack deactivated his Vul gun and studied the man roached. Ego’s voice sounded in his ear. “Sir, the target’s energy readings are abnormal. He may be a mutant.”

  “Noted,” Zack murmured, quietly raising his guard.

  The man stopped a few feet away, his sharp eyes sing Zack’s imposing armor with a mix of caution and fasation. Adjusting the gold-rimmed gsses perched on his aquiline nose, he called out, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

  Zack’s voice, slightly distorted through his helmet's speakers, came out firm. “I could ask you the same thing. Identify yourself.”

  The man raised a brow, nodding thoughtfully as he folded his arms. “Dr. Samson. I’m the head researcher here. And you?”

  Zack didn’t lower his guard. “Call me Zack. I’m here to iigate this facility.”

  Dr. Samson tilted his head, his expression sharpening as his curiosity deepened. “I see,” he said slowly, his gaze sweeping over Zack’s exoskeleton. “That suit of yours… remarkable. I’ve never seen teology like that, especially in these ditions. What’s your purpose here, Zack? Surely someoh resources like yours isn’t wandering by ce.”

  "I'm here for the biology b," Zaterrupted, his toting. "As of now, I’m taking over this base."

  Dr. Samson’s smile froze for a moment before he forced anh. "Ah, Mr. Zack, surely you're joking! This base represents the efforts of many people."

  "Many people?" Zack said, his gaze shifting to the boratory building. "Are there survivors here?"

  "Of course," Dr. Samson said quickly, his demeanor still friendly. "Why don’t you e inside and see for yourself?"

  "Fine," Zack replied curtly. As Zack agreed, a flicker of something dark passed through Dr. Samson’s eyes. The ers of his mouth twitched upward into a barely noticeable, cruel smile. "Right this way, Mr. Zack," he said, leading Zaside.

  Ihe boratory building, just as Dr. Samson had said, there were survivors—about twenty of them. Some were elderly, while others were children. At first ghey seemed to be doing well. They didn’t look malnourished, and their living ditions appeared det. Yet Zaoticed something uling.