The city had dissolved into chaos—not just the mindless dead, but a towering Infected that shook the earth with each stride. Armored vehicles rumbled in the distance, but down here, in the shadow of a collapsing overpass, survival was a quieter, bloodier affair.
"C-cousin… I can't…" Danna gasped, sliding down a graffiti-strewn wall, her breath ragged. The overpass loomed above, a maze of crashed cars and smoldering debris.
Alex glanced back, heart pounding. He'd seen the monster—Yuri, or what was left of him—tear a tank in half. No exorcist, no soldier, could stop that.
"Just a little further," he lied, pulling her up, "we'll find a safe—"
Gasoline fumes hit first. Then the boom.
Flames erupted beneath the overpass, shockwave hurling them into the wall. Alex clung to consciousness, watching Danna lie still, her hair matted with blood.
"Danna…" He tried to rise, but crimson muscle tendrils coiled around his wrists, tightening like living ropes. The Hive's grip, spreading like a plague.
Footsteps echoed.
"Rough day, isn't it?"
Alex froze. Lu Qiu, alive—smirking, pistol in hand, eyes hidden behind cracked glasses.
"You…" Alex swallowed, "you're one of them."
Lu Qiu's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Correct." The pistol cocked, muzzle steady on Alex's chest.
This was it—death by monster's gun. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet.
Bang!
No pain. No blood.
He opened his eyes to see a zombie crumpled behind him, brain matter staining the concrete. Lu Qiu's pistol was now aimed at the ceiling, smoke curling from the barrel.
"Run," Lu Qiu said, voice softer, "the horde's coming."
Alex stared, confused. Why save him? Why the mercy?
Another roar shook the overpass, closer now. Without thinking, Alex hauled Danna into his arms, ignoring the ache in his ribs. Survive first, question later.
But Lu Qiu wasn't done. A pistol clattered at Alex's feet, followed by a satchel of ammo—heavy, reassuring.
"In this world," Lu Qiu said, turning away, "powerless people can't protect anyone."
Alex caught the flicker in his eyes—a flash of red, gone as quickly as it came. Pain? Regret?
"Wait!" Alex called, "What's your name?"
"Lu Qiu." A wave, a shadow melting into the gloom.
Alone now, Alex gripped the gun, feeling its weight. A monster who saves?
He remembered the look in Lu Qiu's eyes—the same one he'd seen in refugees back home, the ones who gave their last ration to a child.
"Protect her…"
The whisper lingered as Alex shouldered Danna, pistol in hand, stepping into the fire-lit night. Behind him, the overpass groaned, Hive tendrils creeping closer, but for now, hope clung—fragile, stubborn, human.
Somewhere, Lu Qiu watched from the shadows, jaw clenched. He'd meant to kill them, should have killed them—yet here they were, fleeing with his gun, his ammo, his mercy.
Weakness, the System hissed, despair is cleaner.
But Lu Qiu knew the truth: even monsters could bleed, could remember a sister's laughter, a pyre's glow.
"One exception," he murmured, "for old times' sake."
Then he turned, scarlet pupils blazing, toward the Hive's heartbeat. The System's counter ticked higher, but in his chest, a forgotten ache lingered—the last vestige of what he'd once been.
Let the siblings live. Let them tell the world of the monster who spared them.
After all, even Endbringers needed reminders of what they'd lost.
And in the end, despair tasted sweeter when chased by a single, flickering hope.