Elsewhere on campus...

Ethan and his crew were back on the hunt for another mutated zombie.

With so many people on campus, the place was crawling with undead. Every few steps, they ran into another pack.

It didn't take long before Ethan spotted one.

"See that group over there?" he said, pointing toward a cluster of zombies shambling across a patch of grass. "One of them's mutated."

There were at least twenty in the group, probably drawn in by the emergency broadcast. The speaker on the lawn had already been smashed to pieces.

"Twenty's a lot," Chris muttered, frowning.

"Yeah, and there are other groups nearby. If this drags out, we'll have a whole damn horde on us," Ethan said.

"So… do we still go for it?" Henry asked.

"Of course we do. Mutated zombies aren't exactly growing on trees."

Ethan turned to Chris. "Think you can peel a few off? If we can thin the herd, this gets a lot easier."

"I'll give it a shot," Chris said, already fading from view as he activated his stealth.

He crept toward the group, moving low and quiet, then pulled a few pebbles from his pocket and tossed them near the zombies.

It had worked back at the dorms.

But here, on the grass, the stones landed with barely a whisper. No sound, no reaction.

He tried again. And again. Nothing.

After several failed attempts, Chris gave up and slunk back to the group, reappearing with a sheepish look.

"No dice," he said. "Can't draw them off."

Ethan sighed. "Then we'll have to brute-force it."

"Not so fast," Chris said, a glint in his eye. "Might be time to test out my new technique—The Art of the Kill."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "The what now?"

Chris just grinned. "You'll see. Let me rest a bit first—need to recharge."

Ethan chuckled. "Alright. Looking forward to the show."

About ten minutes later, Chris stood up and stretched. "Okay, I'm going in. Don't follow until I give the signal."

"You sure about this?" Ethan asked. "Don't get cocky."

"I've run the simulation in my head a hundred times," Chris said confidently. "I got this."

Ethan nodded. "Then go. And be careful."

Chris vanished again, slipping into stealth and moving toward the group of zombies. This time, he didn't hesitate.

He walked right up to one of them and, without a sound, brought his steel tube down in a clean, brutal strike. The zombie dropped instantly.

But the moment he struck, his body shimmered back into view.

The rest of the zombies froze for a beat—then roared and charged.

Chris was already moving. He darted back, sprinting a few steps before vanishing again mid-stride.

From Ethan's vantage point, using his True Sight, he could see Chris's every move. His footfalls were feather-light, barely disturbing the grass. He moved fast, but silent—no sound, no trail.

Chris didn't run in a straight line. He looped around, circling wide to avoid the oncoming swarm.

The zombies, confused by his sudden disappearance, milled around in frustration. Their rotting brains couldn't process what had just happened.

Then—crack—another zombie dropped.

Chris had reappeared on the opposite side, struck again, and vanished before the others could react.

He repeated the pattern, weaving through the group like a ghost. Appear. Kill. Disappear.

The zombies were spinning in circles, completely outmatched.

"So that's his 'Art of the Kill,' huh?" Ethan murmured, impressed. "Gotta admit—it's working."

"Chris is a beast!" Henry said, eyes wide. He couldn't see Chris while he was cloaked, only the sudden flashes of violence—one zombie down, then another, then nothing.

One-hit kills, then gone like smoke. It looked like something out of a movie.

After taking down nine zombies in a row, Chris finally hit his limit. His head was spinning, vision swimming at the edges. He knew the signs—he'd pushed his ability to the brink. Gritting his teeth, he turned and sprinted back toward the others.

The moment he reached the cover of the landscaping where they were hiding, he dropped his stealth and collapsed onto the grass with a heavy thud.

"God... this thing drains you like crazy," Chris muttered, pale and panting.

"Yeah, but you were amazing," Ethan said, genuinely impressed. "You took out almost half of them on your own."

"Seriously, Chris, that was badass!" Henry added, eyes wide with admiration.

Chris managed a tired grin. "Naturally. But I'm tapped out now—probably won't be able to use my ability again for at least thirty minutes."

"No worries," Ethan said. "There's thirteen left. Once you've caught your breath, we'll just go in and finish the rest the old-fashioned way."

"Sounds good to me."

After a short rest, Chris pushed himself to his feet. His powers were still offline, but he could fight just fine without them.

The three of them grabbed their steel tubes and charged.

The zombies noticed them almost immediately and let out guttural howls, stumbling forward with renewed hunger.

As soon as they closed the distance, the steel tubes swung into action. The first three zombies went down fast, skulls cracked open with brutal efficiency.

But the remaining ten surged forward.

The trio shifted tactics—no more stabbing. They swept their weapons in wide arcs, using raw strength to knock the undead back.

That's when the mutated zombie revealed itself.

While the others were sent flying several steps, this one barely staggered back two paces.

"There you are," Ethan muttered. "I'll handle the mutated one. You two take the rest."

"Got it," Chris and Henry said in unison, already peeling off toward the others.

Ethan lunged.

His steel tube stabbed forward, then swung, then slammed down with relentless force. The open lawn gave him room to move, and he used every inch of it—thrusting, bashing, spinning the weapon like an extension of his own body.

The mutated zombie fought back, but it was slower, clumsier. Ethan's strikes landed again and again, until finally, with a sickening crunch, the steel tube punched through its skull. The creature dropped like a sack of meat.

Ethan didn't waste a second. He knelt, dug into the shattered remains of its head, and pulled out the crystal.

Meanwhile, Chris and Henry had each taken down two more zombies. Only five remained.

Ethan sprinted over to join them, and together, the three of them made quick work of the rest.

"Move!" Ethan barked as the last one fell.

They didn't stick around. The noise would draw more soon. They ran, ducking through hedges and across walkways until they found a quiet patch of campus with no undead in sight.

Once they were sure it was safe, Ethan pulled out the crystal.

Before he could say a word, Chris waved him off. "Don't even ask. Just eat it."

"Yeah, come on," Henry added. "Let's see what happens this time."

Ethan nodded. No hesitation. He wiped the blood off the crystal and swallowed it whole.

As before, the crystal dissolved into energy, flooding his body with heat and light.

But this time, something was off.

Ethan frowned.

"What's wrong?" Chris asked. "Did it not work?"

"It worked," Ethan said slowly. "Just… not the way I expected."

He looked up at them, brow furrowed. "I thought eating a second crystal would light up the second point on the first star in my constellation map. But it didn't."

"So no new star?" Henry asked.

"No. But I can feel the power increase. It's just… subtler than the first time."

Chris shrugged. "Hey, a boost is a boost."

"Yeah," Ethan agreed. "I'm guessing the second point needs more than one crystal to activate. Probably a higher threshold."

"Could be," Henry said. "But that just means we keep hunting. Campus is huge, and there's no shortage of zombies."

Ethan nodded, slipping the steel tube back into his belt. "Then let's move. We've got work to do."

"Hell yeah," Chris said, cracking his knuckles.

"Let's go," Henry grinned.

And with that, the three of them disappeared into the shadows of the campus once more, hunting for their next kill.

...

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