Above—

Charles didn’t speak.

Didn’t explain what he saw.

He just acted.

He angled downward sharply, wings adjusting as he dropped toward the injured operative whose leg had been pierced earlier.

The man was barely conscious, clutching at the wound as blood soaked through his uniform.

Charles grabbed him cleanly.

Lifted.

And took off again, flying low and fast toward the tower, keeping close to the ground to avoid exposure.

— 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Don ran.

One step—

And the ground shattered beneath him.

CRRSH—!

The force behind it propelled him forward in a burst, his body cutting through the distance rapidly. The ruined entrance grew larger in his view—

Closer—

Closer—

Charles reached it first, flying straight through the broken frame without obstruction.

Don followed.

Another step—

And he was there.

He slowed just enough to stop beside the entrance, where the two officers had already taken position, rifles raised outward despite the retreat order.

One of them spoke without looking at him.

"...Thanks for the assist back there."

Don didn’t answer.

The knife-wielding officer arrived moments later, slowing as he reached the entrance.

He didn’t speak either.

His gaze drifted past them—

Back toward where his team had been.

Where they now lay—

Broken.

Dead.

His grip tightened around the knife.

The other officer shoved him hard.

"We can mourn later," he snapped. "Get inside. Now!"

The man staggered slightly from the shove—

Then turned.

Moved.

—

Don finally spoke.

"You two go inside as well."

Both officers glanced at him, confused.

"What—?"

Don didn’t explain.

He turned.

Faced outward again.

His arms rose.

The air shifted.

Two ruined SUVs nearby trembled—

Then lifted.

Metal groaned as they were pulled upward off the ground—

KRRRNN—~

They rose slowly at first—

Then steadied.

Held in place by invisible force.

Don’s gaze hardened as he looked past them—

Toward the trembling street beyond.

"...I’ll seal the door."

The guards didn’t question it.

They moved.

Boots pounded against the polished floor as they rushed inside, slipping past Don in quick succession, rifles still raised out of habit even as they retreated.

Don didn’t wait.

His arms pulled back sharply—

And the vehicles followed.

KRRRNN—!

The twisted frames of the SUVs tore through the air toward him with violent speed, metal creaking under the force as loose panels ripped free mid-flight—

He jumped back.

Then—

BOOM—!

Both vehicles slammed into the ruined entrance.

The impact shook the lower level.

CRAAASH—!

Glass remnants exploded outward, shards scattering across the floor as the already-damaged structure groaned under the added weight. The SUVs wedged themselves into the opening at uneven angles, one partially overlapping the other, sealing most of the gap while debris spilled outward around them.

Dust burst into the air—

FRRSH—~

For a second—

No one moved.

Then—

Mr. Olynk reacted.

"Help him cover up the entrance, now! Move, move!!"

The command snapped through the room.

The officers hesitated—

Just a fraction—

Then rushed forward.

One of them reached the nearest SUV, bracing both hands against its dented frame as his muscles tensed. He pushed—

GRRNN—!

The vehicle shifted slightly, grinding deeper into place as he forced it tighter against the structure.

Another stepped up beside him.

He removed his aviators in one smooth motion.

His eyes—

Pale green.

They lit up.

A faint glow built behind them before a narrow beam fired outward from his gaze—

ZNNN—~

The beam struck the gap between the two SUVs, heat building instantly as the metal began to soften at the edges where they met. The officer’s jaw clenched, shoulders tightening as he held the output steady, sweat forming along his brow as the strain set in.

The metal started to fuse.

Slowly.

Too slowly.

—

Don didn’t let it continue.

Not because it wasn’t working.

Because of what he heard next.

"Don..."

Elle’s voice came through, quieter—but urgent in a different way.

"Aerial drone footage shows a massive group of infected coming your way. But something is different about these... they’re attacking everything they see. Even other infected."

Don’s gaze shifted slightly.

Then—

Winter.

Calm.

"That isn’t all. Zoom footage indicates abnormal behavioral patterns. Elevated muscle tension, erratic movement, and visible facial distortion. These are not exhibiting the usual vacant state associated with standard infected. Their expressions suggest heightened neural activity... possibly agitation, fear, or pain."

A brief pause.

"They could be a divergent strain... or a destabilized state. Either way, this is not something you engage directly. I advise immediate relocation to a secure position or elevation to observe."

—

Don stepped forward slightly.

Looked outside.

And saw it.

The stitched man—

Was standing still.

Completely still.

Facing the tower.

Not advancing.

Not reacting.

Even as the tremors intensified—

TRRRM—! TRRRM—!

Chunks of debris shifted around its feet, small fractures spreading through the ground beneath it—

It didn’t move.

Its face—

Blank.

Then—

Movement above.

Don’s gaze snapped upward.

The woman.

She emerged from the broken section of the building he had thrown her into, her body lifting into the air once more—

And instead of attacking—

She turned.

Flew toward the stitched man.

Her hair extended downward, wrapping around parts of its body as she lifted it with her, dragging its massive frame off the ground with unnatural ease.

They rose together.

Higher.

Toward the tower.

Toward the roof.

Don’s eyes narrowed.

"...No..."

He turned immediately.

"Stop!" he called out to the two officers working on the barricade. "There’s no time!"

They paused mid-action, both looking toward him.

Don didn’t explain.

He turned to Mr. Olynk.

"We need to get to the roof. Fast."

—

Mr. Olynk opened his mouth—

Then stopped.

His communicator crackled.

"Sir! Targets are heading for the roof, I repeat—heading for the roof! Moving to secure choppers! Group threat still advancing this direction—shit—they’ll be here soon!"

That was it.

His expression hardened instantly.

No hesitation.

No questions.

Charles looked at him.

He looked back.

Nothing needed to be said.

They already knew.

—

The officers nearby didn’t.

Confusion flickered across their faces, eyes shifting between each other and the barricaded entrance—

But it didn’t matter.

Mr. Olynk stepped forward.

Voice raised.

"Quickly! Grab magazines and start heading for the roof! Wedge formation! Move!"

They moved.

Immediately.

Training took over where understanding lagged.

Rifles were checked, magazines pulled and swapped out in rapid motions—

CHK—! CHK—!

Boots shifted direction as they began moving toward the stairwell.

—

Mr. Olynk turned to Charles.

"Your friend will take point, sir. You stay right behind him. Maintain proximity. Use the elevator."

Charles nodded once.

Don didn’t wait.

He was already moving.

"Let’s go."

He passed Charles without stopping, heading straight for the elevator as the doors slid open.

—

Behind them—

Mr. Olynk continued issuing orders.

"Falcon-Three, Falcon-Six, you’re with me! We take the stairs and secure upper access points! Maintain comms at all times!"

"Sir—!"

Another voice cut in.

"What about the civilian and the child? They’re not infected—"

Mr. Olynk turned—

Just slightly—

Toward the elevator.

—