Vivian stared at Ethan, eyes wide. "You're not seriously thinking of hoarding the food for ourselves, are you?"

Ethan gave a dry chuckle. "Please. I've got better things to do than play food tyrant. But these people? They've gotten too comfortable. They need a little... motivation."

"What do you mean?"

"We can't stay holed up in the main dining hall forever. We have to get out."

"But there are thousands of infected out there. Just us? We'd never make it. We'd need everyone to move together."

"Exactly. But as long as they know there's food left, they'll never risk it. Not until they're starving and desperate."

Vivian's expression darkened as she caught on. "And by then, the infected outside might've evolved again."

"Right," Ethan said. "Give it three more days, and we could be looking at Tier 2s. If we wait too long, we won't be able to leave at all."

Vivian nodded slowly. "Got it."

"But even if we go now, we'll take heavy losses."

"At least half," Ethan said with a sigh. "And if they freeze up out there, we could lose everyone."

Two days ago, it might've been doable—most of the infected were still Tier 0. But now? Tier 1s were the norm. He didn't trust this crowd to hold their own.

Still, they needed the numbers. Over a thousand people—if each one took down just a single infected, that was a thousand fewer to deal with. Even if they couldn't fight, they could at least serve as distractions. That alone would ease the pressure on his and Vivian's teams.

Vivian fell silent, the weight of it all settling on her shoulders. Losing half their people just to escape... it was a bitter pill. But Ethan was right. Every day they waited, their odds got worse. Eventually, none of them would make it out.

After a long pause, she gritted her teeth. "Alright. What's the plan?"

"You've got the numbers. Have your people cook everything we've got. Today. No leftovers, no rations. Let them eat their fill—give them the strength to fight. And once it's gone, it's gone. No turning back."

"Alright."

"But we'll need weapons. Where the hell are we gonna find enough for this many people?"

Ethan shrugged. "The table legs in the dining hall are metal. After they eat, have them rip those off. Instant clubs."

Vivian blinked. "Huh... that might actually work."

Ethan sighed dramatically. "God, you're slow. Maybe you should pair up with our Henry. At least then I won't have to worry about you dying stupidly."

"Slow?!" Vivian jabbed a finger at herself, eyes blazing. "I've led my team through hell and back. Every plan we've made, every move we've survived—it was me calling the shots. And now you're calling me slow?!"

But even as she fumed, she couldn't deny it—this guy was sharp. Sharper than her, maybe. And that stung more than she wanted to admit.

Meanwhile, the handsome man standing beside her had gone stiff, eyes narrowing at Chris and Henry. He didn't know which one was Henry, but he was sure it was one of them.

He didn't have to wonder long. Because the skinny one—Henry—was blushing.

The man's jaw tightened. No way. The woman I like? With him? Not happening.

Vivian clenched her fists, forcing her temper down. "My business is none of yours. I don't need a man to survive the apocalypse."

"Never say never," Ethan said with a grin. "Henry's got his talents. You might need him one day."

"If he's really that capable, we'll see." With that, she turned and stalked off, her team following close behind.

"Ethan, dude," Henry groaned, half-laughing, half-exasperated. "You can't just play matchmaker like that."

"Just admit it—she got to you a little, didn't she?"

Henry scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, okay, maybe a little. But you can't just throw me under the bus like that. You're gonna make it worse."

Chris chimed in, grinning. "Nah, man. Ethan did you a favor. Now she knows who you are. She even looked at you."

"I'd rather she hadn't," Henry muttered.

Ethan suddenly snapped his fingers. "Wait—I've got a plan. A surefire way to win her over."

"What is it?" Chris asked, eyes lighting up before Henry could even respond.

"I go beat her half to death, and then Henry swoops in, heals her up. Boom—gratitude, emotional vulnerability, maybe even a kiss."

"...What the hell kind of plan is that?" Henry stared at him.

"Yeah, that's not a plan, that's a felony," Chris said. "You might as well tell Henry to just force himself on her."

"Please," Ethan scoffed. "Henry wouldn't stand a chance. That woman's got arms like steel cables."

"Okay, okay, enough," Henry said, throwing up his hands. "Can we not? It's the end of the world. Maybe let's focus on surviving before we start writing rom-coms."

"Fine, fine," Ethan said, waving it off. "But Henry, just so you know—pretty boy next to her? He's got eyes for her too. And he's already in the front row. You're not exactly starting with an advantage."

Henry shrugged. "Then I don't. It's not like I'm head over heels or anything. It's not like you and Lola."

"Hey!" Chris snapped. "Why am I getting dragged into this?"

"We're on the topic," Ethan said with a smirk. "Anyway, I get what you're trying to do, Ethan," Henry added. "You want me to win her over so she joins us. She's strong—she'd be a hell of an ally. But that kind of thing can't be forced. If it happens, it happens."

"Fair enough," Ethan said, lifting his hands in surrender. "Your call."

With that, he activated his skill—[True Sight]—and began scanning the thousand-plus survivors scattered throughout the main dining hall.

After a long while, Ethan finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd, exhaling through his nose and shaking his head with a sigh.

Over a thousand people… and not a single Awakened among them.

Seriously?

He'd assumed the odds weren't that bad. After all, all three guys in their dorm had awakened powers. He figured it was common enough.

But now, seeing this sea of ordinary, powerless faces, he realized the truth—they'd just gotten lucky. Or maybe… they owed it all to Chris.

That one phone call had changed everything.

If Chris hadn't called that night, they would've already been asleep. And if they'd been asleep when the wave hit? They might've turned into zombies in their beds. Or worse—been absorbed by Liam like the others.

Ethan grimaced at the thought. Yeah, they'd dodged a bullet.

And weirdly enough, he found himself feeling a flicker of gratitude toward Lola. Her betrayal had been perfectly timed. If she hadn't dumped Chris right then, that call never would've happened.

So, thanks, Lola. You backstabbing witch.

Just then, Vivian and her crew returned from the kitchen, carrying several massive trays—steaming mac and cheese, a mountain of mashed potatoes, and a few other dishes that actually smelled like real food.

The scent hit the room like a bomb.

Heads snapped up. Eyes widened. Stomachs growled in unison.

Vivian raised her voice. "Everyone's hungry, right? Well, today—eat as much as you want!"

"For real?!"

"Thank God!"

The dining hall erupted in cheers. People clutched each other, some on the verge of tears. After days of watery soup and rationed scraps, the promise of a full meal felt like a miracle.

They looked at Vivian and her team with pure gratitude, eyes shining with hope.

None of them realized this might be their last supper.

And even if they did… they'd still eat.

Because in this world, you never passed up your only chance.

...

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