Poison

Zack ordered firmly, "Back off." The mechanical dog obeyed immediately, stepping back, though its glowing eyes remained locked on the group of frightened women.

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you," Zack said, his voice calm but steady. To ease their panic, he reached up and removed his faceplate, revealing his face. 

The women stared at him, their fear gradually subsiding. One by one, their wide-eyed expressions softened, and tears began streaming down their faces as they broke down, hugging their knees and sobbing. Zack's jaw tightened as he absorbed the scene, trying to piece together what these people had endured.

It was obvious the prisoners who had taken over this place had stripped every shred of humanity from the survivors. Those who fell for the luring broadcasts and came to the prison were immediately robbed—of supplies, dignity, and hope. Their food, water, and weapons were confiscated, and anyone who resisted was either killed outright or thrown into cells to rot. Many died of starvation, their bodies tossed over the walls to feed the zombies outside.

'Ego,' Zack thought silently. 'How many survivors are left?'

Ego's mechanical voice responded in his earpiece. "Sir, there are 68 survivors: 15 women and 53 men, including 11 who are elderly, ill, or injured."

Zack frowned. 'And the food situation?'

"Excluding preserved human flesh," Ego replied, "the current supply will last approximately twenty-five days."

Zack nodded grimly. "We need workers in the industrial zone. We're short on manpower. The ones who can work will go to the steel mill. As for the elderly and injured, they'll stay here for now."

"Sir," Ego added, "this prison is highly defensible and suitable as a shelter against zombies."

"I know," Zack said. "But we need production first. The steel mill is the priority." His gaze shifted to the mechanical dog. "This place can be our fallback shelter, but I need materials, and that means the mill comes first."

With the plan in place, Zack gestured to the mechanical dog, which approached the iron doors and unlocked them. Slowly, the survivors began stepping out. Among them, one figure caught Zack's attention: a man in a tattered warden's uniform, his face bruised and hollowed by exhaustion and abuse.

"Antonny, former warden," Ego informed him. "Male, 38, physically weakened, likely due to repeated beatings."

Zack walked toward the man, noting how he flinched and cowered, as if expecting another blow. 'He's completely broken,' Zack thought grimly.

"Were you the warden here?" Zack asked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Antonny hesitated, his voice barely audible. "Y-yes… I was."

"Good," Zack said briskly. "You know this place better than anyone. Arthur is dead, and I'm in charge now." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I need your help to manage things here. Start by distributing food, getting these people cleaned up, and sorting out those who are fit to work. And make sure the place is spotless."

Antonny stammered, "I-I don't know if I can…"

Zack pointed to the mechanical dog, its blood-streaked metal frame glinting ominously. "You'll have help." The remnants of flesh clinging to the dog's frame made Antonny's face turn pale. He nodded quickly, trembling. "Yes, yes! I'll do it!"

Zack softened his tone slightly, offering a nod of encouragement. "Good. Do what I say, and you'll be fine. You'll have food, shelter, and maybe even a shot at a fresh start. But you have to pull your weight."

The faint hope in Zack's words seemed to revive something in Antonny. He straightened up, nodding vigorously. "I-I'll do my best," he said, a flicker of determination returning to his eyes.

"Good," Zack said. "Tomorrow morning, I'll send a helicopter. Pick thirty of the strongest people to work at the steel mill. They'll have food and shelter there. Make sure they're ready."

Antonny nodded quickly, not daring to protest. Zack turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. He saw no need to ask for anyone's opinion—this was the apocalypse, and survival was a luxury few could afford.

Outside, Zack headed straight for the parking lot, where trucks loaded with crates of weapons and ammunition awaited. He began unloading them with ease, the hydraulics in his MV-01 armor making the task effortless. Within minutes, he had transferred the entire load into the helicopter, leaving just enough room for himself and his equipment. His compact, three-legged mechanical spider followed, folding its legs to fit into the limited space. The mechanical dog remained behind, a silent enforcer to guard the prison and ensure Antonny's compliance.

"Let's go, Ego," Zack commanded.

The helicopter's engines roared to life, and soon it lifted off, disappearing into the sky. After some time, the fuel gauge dipped into the red, signaling their arrival at Tribeca. Ego piloted the craft with precision, lowering it gently onto the community helipad.

"Well done, Ego," Zack said as he climbed out and began unloading the crates.

"Welcome back, Zack!" Sophia called, jogging over from the mansion.

"Hey, get Annie to help with this," Zack said, hauling two large crates at once.

Sophia hesitated. "But… Annie hasn't returned yet," she said, frowning.

Zack's brow furrowed. Annie had only gone to the steel mill, barely a dozen kilometers away. With MV-02, she should've been back long ago.

"Ego?" Zack asked sharply.

"Sir, satellite scans show Annie is en route," Ego replied. Moments later, an image appeared in Zack's visor. The MV-02 suit was flying erratically, veering left and right as if disoriented.

Zack's stomach tightened. "What's wrong with her?"

Ego's voice turned urgent. "Sir, her heart rate is critically low. She may be in a semi-comatose state."

Zack's chest tightened. "Take control of MV-02 and bring her back. Now!"

The suit's flight stabilized under Ego's control and quickly approached Tribeca. Within minutes, the silver suit landed in front of Zack, its palm thrusters releasing a pulse to slow its descent. 

"Get her to the basement! Remove the suit, now!" Zack ordered, his voice laced with urgency.

Ego guided the suit to the basement, where robotic arms dismantled it piece by piece. Annie's limp body was revealed inside. As the suit released her, she began to slump, but Zack caught her just in time.

"Ego, scan her condition!" Zack demanded.

"Sir, she's not breathing, and her pulse is faint. Immediate CPR is required."

"Help me out of this suit!" Zack barked, realizing he couldn't perform CPR while wearing the bulky armor.

Before he could move, Sophia stepped in. "Let me do it!" she said firmly, taking Annie from Zack and laying her flat on the floor. Without hesitation, she began chest compressions, her hands moving with practiced precision.