Back at the dorm, Ethan, Chris, and Henry dumped out their backpacks and laid out the haul—enough food to stuff themselves and then some.

They'd cleaned out the supermarket, cramming three full bags with everything from canned goods to snacks. It'd last them two, maybe three days if they didn't go overboard.

The dorm room was starting to look like a well-stocked bunker. Piles of supplies—food, toiletries, even a few luxuries—lined the walls. All scavenged, all hard-earned. For now, life was surprisingly comfortable, considering the world outside had gone to hell.

"Let's rest a bit," Ethan said, stretching out on his bed. "Later tonight, we head out and take a look around."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "It's already dark. What are we supposed to see out there?"

"Yeah, you trying to get us killed?" Henry added, half-joking.

Ethan sat up, serious. "Have you noticed? These zombies don't seem to get stronger during the day. But every morning, they're tougher than the night before. Like they level up overnight or something. We need to figure out why. If there's a way to trigger that kind of growth… maybe we can do it too."

Chris nodded slowly. "That actually makes sense. We should check it out."

"Yeah," Henry agreed. "Could be important."

They all flopped back onto their beds, pulling out their phones like it was any other lazy evening. Miraculously, the signal still held. In a world where everything else had collapsed, that little bar of reception was a lifeline—proof that they weren't completely cut off. People could still talk, still share, still hope.

"Wanna play a couple rounds?" Henry asked suddenly.

"Play what?" Ethan didn't even look up.

"Game, man. I'm bored out of my mind."

Chris snorted. "You're seriously thinking about gaming right now?"

"If you can find a match with actual players, I'll be impressed," Ethan said, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, okay… I'll just play against bots then."

"You do you," Ethan said, waving him off. Chris just shook his head. Henry's gaming addiction was incurable.

But the moment Henry launched the app, his face fell.

"Can't even get into the game…"

Ethan smirked. "Dude, if the servers are still up at all, that's a miracle."

"Fair point."

"Ethan, check this out!" Chris suddenly shoved his phone toward them.

The three of them huddled around the screen.

A video was playing—grainy, shaky, but unmistakable. A group of survivors were fighting off a horde of zombies. Then, out of nowhere, the guy in front hurled a ball of fire from his hand. It hit a zombie dead-on. The thing went up in flames, screeching as it burned to ash in seconds.

All three of them stared, stunned.

The comment section was exploding. Some claimed it was CGI. Others said it was a magic trick. But more and more people were whispering the same word: powers.

Whatever it was, the video had gone viral. In a world drowning in fear and death, it was a spark of something else—hope, maybe. Or at least a distraction.

They looked at each other, and without saying a word, they all knew.

"Awakened," Chris said, voice low.

"Yeah. Fire-type ability. Strong offense," Ethan added, eyes still on the screen.

"Damn," Henry breathed. "Now that's a superpower. Compared to that, ours are kinda lame."

"Lame?" Chris scoffed. "I can go invisible. I could sneak up and take that guy out before he even knew I was there."

"Okay, fine. But mine and Ethan's powers are still pretty weak."

Ethan gave him a look. "Without my ability, you think we'd be living this comfortably?"

"…Fair."

"Our powers aren't weak," Ethan said, sitting up straighter. "They're just not flashy. Not combat-oriented. But in terms of rarity? We're probably way ahead of that guy. And in a world like this, survival matters more than fireballs."

"Exactly," Chris said. "You think your power's useless? In a world where hospitals are gone and people are dropping like flies, your healing ability is gold. If word gets out, even the strongest Awakened would beg to have you on their team."

Henry grinned. "Okay, okay, I feel better now."

Ethan nodded. "Still, we do need someone with a combat ability. If we run into one, we should try to recruit them."

"Sure," Chris said. "But people are complicated now. Finding someone strong is one thing. Finding someone who won't stab us in the back? That's the real challenge."

"We'll take it slow," Ethan said. "With my sharp eyes, we'll spot the right one eventually."

Chris laughed. "That's the spirit."

"Alright," Ethan said, standing. "Get some sleep. We head out tonight."

"Got it."

11:00 p.m.

The three of them stirred from their beds and slipped out of the dorm, moving quietly into the night.

The streetlights were mostly dead, but a few flickered dimly, casting just enough glow to navigate by. Before long, they spotted a handful of zombies wandering aimlessly down the road.

They ducked behind a flowerbed, crouching low and watching.

But after several minutes of observation, the undead looked no different than they had during the day—just the same slow, mindless shuffle.

"They're just stumbling around like always," Chris muttered, frowning. "I don't see anything different."

"Keep watching," Ethan said, eyes fixed. "We need to figure out what's making them stronger overnight. We're not leaving until we do."

"Alright, alright…"

So they waited. And waited.

An hour crawled by.

Then, as the clock ticked past midnight, something changed.

The zombies froze mid-step. One by one, they slowly lifted their heads and stared up at the sky, as if drawn by some invisible force.

Ethan and the others instinctively followed their gaze.

"The Nine-Star Dipper…" Chris whispered.

All three of them stared, breath caught.

"Wait… does it only appear at midnight?" Ethan murmured, thinking aloud.

"Where's Polaris?" Henry asked, squinting. "Shouldn't it be right there?"

"I think it fell," Chris said slowly. "That night everything went to hell… I remember seeing something fall from the sky. I thought I was dreaming, but it looked like Polaris crashed. And then that red star showed up in its place."

"Yeah," Ethan nodded. "I saw it too. But now even the red one's gone."

"This has to mean something," Henry said, brows furrowed. "Something big."

"Dude, the world already ended. How much bigger can it get?"

"…Fair point."

Ethan turned his gaze back to the zombies. They were still standing there, motionless, like they were in a trance.

He activated his True Sight.

And there it was—thin, translucent wisps of energy drifting through the air, slowly seeping into the zombies' bodies.

"This… this must be the mysterious energy that's evolving them," Ethan said under his breath.

It made sense. If they were absorbing this stuff every night, no wonder they kept getting stronger.

"But how the hell do zombies know how to absorb it, and we don't?" he muttered.

He glanced around, scanning the area near them. Nothing. No energy flowing toward the humans.

"Chris, Henry," Ethan said suddenly, eyes sharp. "Look up. Focus on the Nine-Star Dipper. Don't move. Just stare at it."

"Uh… okay?"

The two of them tilted their heads back, eyes fixed on the constellation.

Ethan kept True Sight active, watching them closely.

And then—there it was. Faint threads of the same mysterious energy began to gather around them, slowly drifting into their bodies.

Not as much as the zombies were getting, but it was there.

"Damn, my neck's killing me," Henry grumbled, rubbing the back of it and rolling his head.

The moment he moved, the energy around him vanished.

Ethan's eyes widened. "That's it… I get it now."

A grin spread across his face.

"Come on. Roof. Now."

He didn't wait for questions—just turned and bolted for the stairs.

Chris and Henry exchanged a look, then hurried after him without a word.

...

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