The last stretch to the school office was hell.
They crept through the narrow corridor, the emergency lights above casting everything in a sickly red glow. Shadows swayed with every movement. The air smelled like mildew, copper, and something worse. Something rotted.
"We're close," Kaede whispered, her voice tight.
Then they heard it.
A voice—a girl's voice—sharp, clear, commanding:
"On your left! Take her down!"
A dull crack followed. Then the wet, messy thud of something collapsing.
They reached the intersection—Katharina in the lead—and peeked around the corner.
The office was there.
Barricaded.
A desk and chairs stacked high, reinforced with curtain rods and filing cabinets. Three girls stood on the other side, fighting off a wave of infected who had broken through a side entrance.
And at the center of them, unmistakable even drenched in blood, stood Veronika von Schwarzburg.
Her hair, once always immaculately tied back, hung loose and damp across her cheek. Her uniform had been modified—ripped sleeves, a leather belt repurposed to hold tools and a knife. She moved with lethal precision, wielding a fire extinguisher like a mace, smashing skulls without hesitation.
The two other girls fought alongside her—one wielding a sharpened mop, the other a kitchen cleaver that dripped red onto her boots.
Henriette muttered, "What the hell…"
"That's Veronika," Katharina said, stunned.
Monika's eyes widened. "She's still alive?"
"More than that," Kaede said. "She's thriving."
Veronika spotted them mid-swing. Her expression didn't shift, but her voice rose above the carnage.
"Get in here. Now."
No hesitation.
Kaede rammed her shoulder into a straggling zombie and cleared the way. The group sprinted forward, weapons raised, pushing through the chaos.
Jocelyn tripped, nearly falling—but Elyria pulled her back without a word.
By the time they reached the barricade, Veronika had already cleared the last infected. She turned to them, face pale but unshaken, eyes as sharp as ever.
"You're late," she said coolly.
Kaede narrowed her eyes. "We didn't realize there was a schedule."
Veronika gave her a thin smile—more of a smirk. "There's always a schedule. But no matter. You're here now."
The group climbed over the barricade and dropped into the heart of the office. It smelled of sweat, dust, and disinfectant. Papers were scattered everywhere. A cracked computer screen still flickered on the reception desk.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Katharina looked at her. Really looked at her.
Veronika had always been untouchable—pristine. But now, she looked like someone pulled out of a war film. Her boots were stained. Her right sleeve had a line of dried blood like a signature. But her eyes—
Her eyes were focused.
Like she'd seen things and survived them.
"What happened to you?" Katharina asked, quietly.
Veronika tilted her head slightly. "Adaptation."
She turned to the others. "We've been holding this place for almost two days. Power's shot, internet's dead. There's no contact with the outside. No sign of help coming."
"And the rest of the school?" Seraphina asked.
Veronika looked her in the eyes. "Gone."
A silence settled. Heavy.
Monika blinked fast, her throat tightening. Henriette clenched her fists.
"We came here hoping for information," Kaede said.
"There's some," Veronika replied, nodding to the back room. "Files. Surveillance. Partial radio logs. But more importantly, there's defensibility. If we're going to make it through the next few days, this is one of the few places we can hold."
She looked over the group once more—pausing on Katharina longer than the others.
"You're not weak," she said. "That's good. I'll need people who can fight."
Kaede bristled. "We didn't come here to take orders."
Veronika gave her a pointed look. "Then you came here to die."
It hung in the air like a blade.
Katharina stepped forward. "Enough. We're all alive. That's what matters."
Veronika's gaze met hers. And for a second, something flickered behind her eyes.
Recognition. Respect. Maybe even… relief.
But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"Fine," Veronika said. "Then let's get to work."