Invader

Zack frowned, still skeptical. "Ego, any abnormalities?"

Ego's neutral voice responded instantly. "Sir, there are no abnormalities in the target's pupils, heartbeat, blood pressure, or skin electrodes. It's unlikely she's lying."

The confirmation eased Zack's nerves, but only slightly. "… Sorry," he muttered after a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "I might've gone a little overboard."

Erza waved it off with a grin. "It's fine. But honestly, the way you were so mean to me just now was kinda handsome. When are you gonna be that mean to someone for me?"

"…" Zack froze, utterly speechless. "Let's just keep moving." Shaking his head, he strode forward, leaving Erza smirking behind him.

After confirming Annie was safe, Zack finally relaxed enough to focus on the mission. Together, he and Erza continued exploring the massive Armory. The facility felt enormous, like someone had hollowed out half the mountain. From their intel, Zack knew this wasn't originally an Armory—it had started as a wartime air defense shelter before being converted due to its hidden location.

"This way," Zack instructed, leading Erza deeper into the cavernous factory. Along the way, they passed multiple production areas: one specialized in manufacturing bullets and shells, another in firearms, and even a workshop assembling light armored vehicles.

Eventually, they arrived at the warehouses in the innermost part of the facility. There were five in total: two stored finished products—one for firearms and vehicles, the other for ammunition. However, both were nearly empty, clearly stripped clean before the apocalypse. But Zack wasn't after finished goods; he needed raw materials. His custom weapons, like micro-missiles, required components he had to assemble himself.

To his relief, the last two warehouses he checked were packed to the brim with supplies. The explosives alone—RDX and nitroglycerin—added up to nearly a thousand tons, not to mention the countless other materials. "This trip was worth it," Zack remarked with satisfaction.

"So, what's in the last one?" Erza asked curiously, her eyes already on the final warehouse door. She fiddled absentmindedly with a lighter in her hand as they approached.

"Are you trying to get us killed?!" Zack snatched the lighter away, glaring at her.

"I'm not stupid! I wasn't actually gonna use it…" Erza grumbled, her voice trailing off.

Zack ignored her and pushed open the door. The moment it cracked open, a revolting stench flooded the air.

"Ugh—what is that?" Erza staggered back, retching and clinging to the wall for support.

Zack, prepared for the worst, had disabled the odor feedback in his armor, sparing him from the worst of it. But even he felt unsettled. The smell wasn't just bad—it was wrong.

"The smell's coming from here. You sure you want to come in?" Zack asked as he stepped inside.

Erza hesitated but stubbornly followed. She immediately regretted it. The warehouse interior was a grotesque sight: a sprawling jungle of lavender vines, their roots buried in a massive pit filled with decomposing corpses and corrosive liquid. The pit was the source of the unbearable stench.

"Urgh—" Erza's face turned white as a sheet. She barely had time to react before she doubled over, vomiting up everything she'd eaten.

Zack grimaced, his usual composure slipping. "If it weren't for the risk of blowing this place sky-high, I'd turn this whole warehouse into rubble."

Erza, trembling and pale, leaned against the wall. "I should've listened to you. I'd rather face the creepy tunnels than this horror show."

Realizing she was on the verge of breaking, Zack softened. "Go outside. I'll handle it."

"You sure? I can help—" she started but gagged the moment the smell hit her again. Defeated, she waved him off. "Fine. Over to you, warrior."

She bolted from the warehouse, leaving Zack alone. Despite her hurried retreat, her admiration for Zack grew. She recalled how he'd swooped in to save her during a horde attack. He seemed invincible. Unbeknownst to Erza, Zack wasn't one to endure unnecessary suffering for heroics. The moment she was gone, he turned to Ego. "Take over."

"Understood, Sir," Ego replied.

Zack disabled every sensory feedback in his suit—sight, smell, even sound—before handing full control to his AI.

In Ego's hands, The armor became a merciless force. It unsheathed a saw-chain sword and lunged at the vines. Each swing of the blade was precise and devastating, slicing through the grotesque growth like grass. The vines fell in chunks, but Zack's focus remained cold and unyielding. Countless dark red juices oozed from the severed vines, pooling beneath them.

"He really is the man I like…" Erza muttered under her breath. Outside the warehouse, she peeked in and saw Zack tearing through their enemies, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake. Unable to resist, she gave him a discreet thumbs-up.

Inside the warehouse, the vines began to retaliate. The twisting tendrils, like serpents, lunged to ensnare Zack's war machine. But against the roaring chain saw, they stood no chance. Each swing of the blade shredded through the vines, no matter how many came at once. Soon, the floor was littered with withered remains.

"Ego, clear out the roots!" Zack commanded.

"Understood, sir," Ego replied, seamlessly controlling the armor. He maneuvered through the chaos, cutting the vines at their base where they soaked in a murky pool.

With the roots severed, the remaining vines shriveled up, lifeless and limp. "Sir, the warehouse is secure," Ego reported, his mechanical voice steady as the armor exited the warehouse. He stopped at the entrance, turning to face outwards as if standing guard.

"Well done, Ego!" Zack's voice echoed with approval as he reclaimed control of the armor. Activating the visual feedback, he saw the now-cleared warehouse behind him and grinned.

"Wow, Zack, you looked like a god descending from the heavens back there!" Erza chimed in, her eyes sparkling as she approached.

"Alright, alright, no need to overdo it with the compliments," Zack said, his cheeks reddening. He quickly turned the conversation. "Let's double-check everything to make sure it's safe before we head back."

"Got it," Erza replied with a nod. The two began combing through the warehouse, ensuring no enemies or surprises remained.

Meanwhile, in the dead of night, a transport helicopter touched down quietly in NYC City. The faint hum of its rotors faded as its cargo ramp lowered. A group of black-clad soldiers armed with live ammunition disembarked swiftly. They moved with precision, eliminating nearby zombies in a matter of seconds. The entire operation was silent and efficient, clearly the work of elite professionals.

"This is the target area," one soldier said, glancing at a map. "Let's finish quickly—I'm running low on meds."

A few more men stepped out of the helicopter. Their sharp eyes betrayed a sense of urgency. Their destination: the Tribeca community.

On the second floor of the Mansion, Sophia sat beside Annie, gently pressing a damp towel to her forehead. Annie's fever had yet to subside, but Sophia worked tirelessly to make her comfortable. She noticed the towel had grown warm again and quickly replaced it with a fresh, cool one. Though the fever persisted, Sophia's care eased Annie's tension. Slowly, her furrowed brow relaxed, and she drifted off to sleep. Sophia didn't leave her side. She stayed close, watching over Annie with unwavering vigilance.