The zombie horde had grown into a massive, unstoppable wave, like a tsunami swallowing everything in its path. Zack estimated there were easily over five million zombies in the swarm. Worse, they were now just a mountain away from him.

  “Riverdale…” he muttered, reizing the mountain range on the map. He had once sidered the mansion district here as a potential refuge but dismissed the idea because of its proximity to a zoo. Now, staring at the satellite image, a crucial question weighed on his mind.

  “Ego, do you think this zombie horde will go around the hill?” he asked, scrutinizing the bck mass on his s. If the swarm took a detour, it might buy him ara day to prepare. If not… they’d be on top of him by tomorrow afternoon.

  “The odds are low, sir,” replied Ego, his AI assistant. “A horde this size isn’t likely to divert for something as small as that hill.”

  Zaodded, unsurprised. “Alright, Ego. Simute their path. Show me exactly where they’ll pass through.”

  The satellite view shifted into a ft map. A deep red liraced the projected route of the zombies. The simution showed the horde cutting straight through the ter of NYC, putting the steel mill and the fortified mansions directly in its path. Only the prison y just outside the danger zo that wasn’t mufort.

  As he studied the map, Zack’s eyes caught something unusual. Zooming in, he saw an unfinished stru site that had been turned into a survivor base. The site had reinforced walls ary towers spaced out evenly, each manned by guards.

  “A stru site, huh? Not bad,” Zack muttered to himself. It was secluded, away from the main city, and stocked with steel, struaterials, and heavy maery like excavators. It was a solid choice for a base, far better than the prison. But the site was directly in the horde’s path. The survivors there would be the first to face the zombies—and they wouldn’t be the st.

  “Sir, I’ve identified the leader of that base,” Ego announced suddenly.

  “Oh? Who is it?” Zack asked, curious. Whoever chose that location clearly knew what they were doing.

  “It’s Ms. Sarah, the red-haired woman you entered before.”

  Zack raised an eyebrow. The name didn’t immediately click, but the mention of her red hair brought back memories. “That woman has the worst luck,” he sighed. “First, she barely escapes by the skin of her teeth, and now she’s the first in line for this zombie wave. I holy don’t know how she’s still alive.”

  Pushing thoughts of Sarah aside, Zack refocused on his own preparations. If he couldn’t figure out how to stop this horde, he’d have no choice but to abandoeel mill and the mansion, moving everyoo the prison. Maybe—just maybe—if they were lucky, the wave would pass through NYC quickly, leaving them a ce to return. But Zack had never beeo rely on luck.

  “A zombie wave? Fine. Let’s deal with it head-on,” he said with determination, gng at the meical beast beside him. He ched his fists and got to work.

  Zack spent the night at the steel mill, arming Charles and his team with light ons. Then he hauled all the alloy steel and other refined materials back to the mansion. He instructed Ego to manufacture two more meical dogs and six additional spiders, w non-stop until dawn. By m, his forces had grown to nine meical dogs and twenty spiders.

  Meanwhile, Annie had made progress on her own project—a massive spider robot she arantu. Uhe smaller spider units, Tarantu was over three meters tall, t even above the MV-01 armor. It wasn’t just an exoskeleton—it was a full-fledged giant mech. Tarantu had two bat modes: an unmanned mode, where it operated indepely using advanced AI Zack had programmed, and a pilot mode, plete with a neural-trol cockpit that allowed the user to sync seamlessly with the mae.

  Annie had equipped Tarantu with arm bdes and a web shooter salvaged from Zack’s discarded prototypes. But Zack wasn’t satisfied. “It needs heavier firepower,” he said bluntly as he ied the mech.

  “Seriously?” Annie groaned.

  “We’re fag a zombie wave, not a skirmish. Add heavy guns—mae guns, missile unchers, grenade unchers—whatever you fit. Tarantu o be a walking fortress!”

  Grumbling, Aook Tarantu back to the b frades. As she left, Sophia came downstairs with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. She ha to Zack, who had been w tirelessly through the night.

  “Thanks,” Zack murmured, taking a sip. He didn’t feel physically tired, but the stant pressure weighed on him.

  Sophia noticed his tension and sat beside him, pg her hands gently on his temples to massage them. “Zack, you need real rest,” she said softly, her voice tinged with worry.

  “I will,” Zack replied, leaning into her touch. “But not yet. Not until we get through this.”

  Before Sophia could argue, Ego’s voiterrupted. “Sir, the horde has crossed the hill. They’re heading straight for Sarah and her group.”

  Zack’s eyes widened. “Already?” He had assumed they’d have more time.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophia asked, armed by his rea.

  “The horde is on the move,” Zack said grimly, setting down his coffee and heading straight to the MV-02W. With the help of meical arms, he began suiting up in his bulky, imposing armor, radiating a battle-ready aura.

  Sophia watched him, clutg the coffee cup he had left behind. Her eyes were filled with , fear, and something she couldn’t quite name.

  Meanwhile, at the southern edge of NYC, Erza—a fiery red-haired woman—was receiving the same grim news.

  “A zombie wave? Are you kidding me?” she snapped, flipping the sky an angry middle fihe swarm’s size was staggering, and her frustration boiled over.

  “Erza, what do we do?” someone from the crowd asked, their voice trembling.

  The survivors around her—men, women, children, and even an infant—looked at her with desperate hope. Erza scowled.

  “What do you mean, ‘What do we do?’” she shot back. “We run! You think we take on millions of zombies? Are you nuts?”