"Sir, the horde appears to be splitting. A rge portion has diverted toward NYC," the AI reported.

  Zack turned his attention to his satellite feed. Among the swarm, he spotted a peculiar figure—a zombie that looked almost human. Its pale, sunken eyes glimmered with uling intellige raised its head a out a pierg roar, its frequency beyond human hearing.

  Within seds, the horde shifted. Half the zombies veered off, swarming around the stru site and heading straight for NYC. The satellite view showed the split clearly—like a river parting around an obstacle.

  "Since when do zombies act tactical?" Zack muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Someone—or something—is giving orders."

  "Ego, what do you think?" Zack pressed.

  "Just before the horde ged dire, I detected a faint high-frequency sound wave," Ego expined. "It seemed ter their behavior."

  "A signal?" Zack’s mind raced. " you trace where it came from?"

  "Unfortunately, it was too weak to pinpoint, but it inated about ten kilometers away, he rear of the horde."

  That was the same area where Antonny’s team had been bombing earlier. Zack’s jaw tightened as a grim realizatio in. If there was something anding the zombies, it had to be dealt with—and fast.

  "Ego, s the horde. Map out any mutated zombies. I need a full report," Zack ordered.

  "Uood, Sir. Also, the transport pne has arrived with fresh ammunition," Ego added.

  High above, the LSI satellite adjusted its lens, sing the horde and tagging mutated zombies with red markers. Meanwhile, a transport helicopter approached, loaded with supplies—a mueeded lifeline. But Zack’s attention shifted to the skyline, where he spotted Hunters sg skyscrapers, heading for the ining helicopter.

  "Hang tight!" Zack called to Erza before bsting into the air. His Vul gun roared, its rapid fire shattering gss and tearing into the creatures, sending them plummeting to the ground.

  Suddenly, a fighter jet screamed into view, slig through the air with lethal precision. The young pilot, Ava, gripped the trols tightly, her expression hard as she lined up the Hunters in her sights.

  "For Cole!" Ava’s voice crackled over the s. She pulled the trigger, and the jet’s ons thundered. Bullets shredded the Hunters, their remains falling like crimson rain.

  "Who’s the hotshot?" Zack asked, impressed.

  "Ava, 21. Air Force Academy trainee. First live bat mission," Ego informed.

  "A trainee? She’s flying like a pro," Zack muttered.

  Ava finished a sharp vertical dive, her eyes cold and focused. Her voice came through the s again, calm and steady. "Unknown aircraft, this is Ava. Captain Anton me to help. I’ve got four air bombs on board. Let me know if you hem."

  Zaodded, replying, “Good to have you with us, Ava.” His sharp eyes sed the nearby Hunters, some still lurking dangerously close. His Vul gun roared to life again, firing in precise, trolled sweeps, each shot cutting down the remaining creatures like they were falling rain.

  Ohe area was secured, the transport helicopter, piloted remotely by Ego, began its dest, loaded with vital supplies.

  “We’ll catch up soon!” Antonny’s voice crackled through Zack’s earpiece. On the horizon, the shadowy shapes of three bombers emerged, moving steadily toward the battlefield.

  "You saw how the zombie horde split into two waves, right?" Zack asked over the radio as he started heading toward the stru site.

  Antonny’s response came quickly. “Yeah, I saw it. Half of them veered off and are already making their way into the city.”

  By the time Antonny finished speaking, Zack had nded and stepped into the helicopter’s cargo hold. He moved swiftly, detag the bomb partment on his suit and repg it with two hydrogen fuel cells for his wrist-mounted ser uncher. Nearby, his meical dogs and onized spiders were busy reloading, grabbing fresh supplies of ammunition and poison isters.

  “If you want to help, chase them down and blow them apart!” Zack barked through the s, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Don’t let them reach the city—there are survivors there!”

  Without waiting for a reply, Zached bato the air, heading toward the rear of the massive zombie horde. Behind his visor, his eyes narrowed as Ego, his AI assistant, marked the zombies’ positions on a real-time map.

  The map filled rapidly with red dots. Each small dot represented mutated zombies like Hunters or Bloaters, while rger ones marked the t Juggernauts. The sheer number of mutants was staggering, f dense clusters throughout the horde. But Zack’s focus sharpened wheiced something unusual—a particurly trated group of bur and mutant zombies, their numbers rivaling even the de parts of the swarm.

  “Found you,” Zack muttered, log onto the target and accelerating toward it.

  Meanwhile, the splinter group from the main horde pressed on, advang rapidly toward the industrial district where the steel mill stood. Though their numbers were smaller—about 700,000—they were still a formidable force, enough to overrun the mill if left unchecked.

  The first line of defense was Zack’s meical dogs. Oationed on a newly built watchtower outside the mill activated as the zombies approached. Its glowing blue eyes turned an ominous red, and the heavy mae gun mounted on its back rose into position while its missile uncher prepared to fire. The moment the zombies came inte, it unleashed a relentless barrage.

  Ihe steel mill, the tension alpable. Charles, the pnt manager, stared at a gss of water on his desk, watg its surface ripple with each distant rumble. He didn’t o look outside to know what was ing.

  “A zombie wave?” someotered nervously, their face pale.

  “What do we do, Charles?” another asked, their voice trembling with panic.

  “Run, Charles!” shouted one of the newer workers—a young man, one of over thirty ret transfers from the prison. The fear in his voice was tagious, and a few others edged toward the exits, ready to flee.

  “Calm down!” Charles’s anding voice cut through the rising chaos. Despite his seventy years, his presence carried a weight that steadied the room. “Sir Zack is on his way. We just o hold the liil he gets here.”

  His words brought a flicker of fidence, especially among the long-time steel mill workers who trusted Zaodding in unison, they took their positions, preparing for the fight ahead. Meanwhile, Zack’s transport helicopter, fully stocked with ammunition, lifted off from the stru site and sped toward the mill.

  Outside, the meical dog ochtower let out a meical whir before its gued in a thunderous rhythm, mowing down the first wave of zombies.

  “They’re here!” Charles yelled. “Get your ons and defend the walls!”

  The mill’s defenses, built under Zack’s guidance, were solid. The walls had been reinforced with thick steel and pig iron, and ptforms allowed defeo fire from above. Traps lihe perimeter, ready t at just the right moment.

  Veteran workers scrambled to the walls, rifles in hand, their movements quid effit. These were survivors—factory workers and their families who had faced zombie waves before. But the newers, most of them young and inexperienced, were restless.

  “Where are uns?” one of them shouted, frustration and fear blending in his voice.

  “Yeah, why do they get all the ons?” another added, clearly panig.