Chapter 109: The General awakens

Chapter 109: Chapter 109: The General awakens

Vanya’s POV

"Ahhhhhh, get away!!!!"

"Syd, stop!! What are you doing!!!!"

"No, No, Wake up!!! Sweetheart!! Wake up!!!"

Harold’s face was tensed as he vaguely listened to the screams throughout the building.

His eyes shifted towards Vanya and paused. She looked calm.

"So, this is the beginning?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, people are awakening from their slumber...Some, may not awaken at all." She answered.

"Nya...will we survive?" Harold asked. You could hear the fear in his voice. His hands were shaking as he tried to put them inside his sweater pocket.

Vanya looked up at him, meeting his eyes. The boy was shaking.

"Harry" She said softly. "I can’t guarantee that." She licked her lips as she continued "But, I can promise you that I will teach you how to survive."

Harold held her gaze, he couldn’t hide it. He was terrified. Just a few days ago, his biggest concern was the upcoming basketball game with his mates.

Now, reality was, he will never get to play that match.

"Okay." He responded flatly.

How could Vanya not notice it. He was just a child who had never been to a battlefield.

"Harry. I won’t tell you that everything will be okay. I won’t lie and tell you that days will become better. Because they wont. It will get worse. Much worse." She said. "Humanity will be tested. Many will become cruel. There will be times where you and I will be forced to make decisions that will have us questioning ourselves."

Harold walked towards her as she said this.

"But you have to remember, don’t ever let your emotions cloud your judgement." She stated. "Keep a low profile at all times. Be cruel when you have to be. And train. Train everyday. Do not ever forget that we are no longer in a peaceful era. Starting today, be always on alert. Zombies, they only have one emotion and that is to eat. Humans....They are different. Fear humans more than the zombies." She finished.

Harold knew shew as speaking from her previous life. She had confessed about her rebirth. As absurd as that sounded, he believed her.

"I know. I won’t let my guard down." He answered. He leaned down to give her a hug and said "Just, promise you won’t leave me. I won’t deny I’m terrified. But I fear you leaving me more than the world itself."

Vanya froze when he hugged her. She knew that he was the predecessor’s biological cousin. They were closer than siblings. She tried really hard not to show her discomfort. Being an orphan in her previous life, aside from her closest friend, no one else had ever hugged her.

She patted his arm and and said "I promise, so long as i’m still breathing, I won’t leave you." this was the only promise she could give, and she intended to keep it.

Vanya released Harold from the embrace and allowed her hand to fall back to her side.

For a moment, she simply looked at him.

His eyes were still damp, although he was doing everything possible to hide it. His shoulders remained tense beneath the oversized sweater he had pulled on earlier, and the faint tremor in his hands had not completely disappeared.

He was frightened.

Of course he was.

Vanya would have been concerned if he weren’t.

Fear was a natural response to danger. It kept the body alert. It sharpened the senses. It reminded a person that their life was worth protecting.

What mattered was what came after the fear.

Harold had already begun learning that.

She reached up and straightened the collar of his sweater, an almost absentminded gesture that surprised even her.

"Go get your weapon."

Harold blinked.

"My weapon?"

"Your crowbar."

He looked toward the living room where the metal bar rested against the side of the cabinet.

Vanya had deliberately chosen it for him.

A firearm would have been useful, but ammunition was finite. The crowbar required no ammunition, made little noise, and could be used for more than killing. It could pry open doors, break locks, move debris, and defend himself at close range.

More importantly, she wanted him to learn how to fight without relying on a weapon that could eventually run empty.

"Put on your shoes," she added. "The good ones."

Harold stared at her for another second.

"You’re going downstairs?"

Vanya’s expression remained calm.

"Yes."

He looked toward the apartment door.

The screams had continued while they spoke.

They were no longer isolated.

The sounds had begun blending together, creating an unsettling chorus that seemed to rise through the walls of the condominium itself.

A woman was crying somewhere below.

A man shouted for someone to lock the door.

Another voice screamed a name repeatedly.

Then came the unmistakable sound of something crashing against a hard surface.

Harold’s face tightened.

Vanya watched him absorb the sounds.

"Go."

He nodded.

This time, he didn’t ask another question.

He walked quickly toward the living room and picked up the crowbar.

Vanya watched him check the weapon the way she had taught him.

He tested the grip.

Adjusted his hands.

Checked the weight.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was better than it had been yesterday.

She waited while he changed his shoes and tightened the laces.

When he returned, she was standing beside the entrance, already prepared.

Harold looked at her.

"Are we going to help them?"

Vanya reached for the door.

"We’re going to find out what is happening."

She opened it.

The hallway was empty.

Warm ceiling lights illuminated the polished corridor, reflecting off the dark wood accents and framed artwork along the walls. Everything looked exactly as it had when they had gone to sleep.

That was the unsettling part.

The building looked normal.

The people inside it were not.

Vanya stepped outside.

Harold followed.

She closed the door behind them and immediately began scanning the hallway.

Left.

Right.

The opposite corridor.

The stairwell.

The doors.

Nothing appeared disturbed.

No blood.

No overturned furniture.

No signs that the chaos had reached their floor.

Vanya’s gaze lingered on the stairwell door.

She could hear the screaming more clearly now.

The concrete shaft carried sound upward.

She tilted her head slightly.

"Astrid."

The familiar presence stirred within her consciousness.

"Yes, Commander."

"Estimate the distance."

Astrid processed the sounds surrounding them.

He did not need to explain what she was hearing. He had spent his existence alongside her. He understood what she wanted from him.

A few seconds passed.

"The strongest concentration of activity appears to be approximately ten floors below your current position."

Vanya’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Movement above that point?"

"Limited. Most activity remains concentrated between the second and tenth floors."

That confirmed her suspicion.

The upper levels were still relatively quiet.

Their floor was safe.

For now.

"Any indication the disturbance is moving upward?"

"No confirmed progression at this time."

Vanya exhaled slowly.

That was enough.

They needed to see what was happening before the situation changed.

Not because she intended to rescue strangers.

Not because she believed she could save everyone.

She had learned a long time ago that trying to save everyone was the fastest way to lose yourself—and everyone depending on you.

First came survival.

Then protection.

Then everything else.

Harold stood quietly beside her, waiting.

Vanya looked at him.

"Stay behind me until we reach the lower floors."

He nodded.

"Yes, Nya."

Her eyes softened slightly.

"Once we reach the source of the disturbance, you stay close enough that I can reach you."

"I understand."

"You watch."

Harold frowned.

"Watch?"

"You’ve spent two days learning how to kill."

She placed one hand on the stairwell door.

"Now you’re going to learn how to recognize when you need to."

Harold’s expression became serious.

Vanya continued.

"Do not attack because you’re frightened."

He nodded.

"Do not chase anything."

Another nod.

"And do not assume that every person running toward you is an enemy."

Harold’s fingers tightened around the crowbar.

"What if they’re infected?"

"Then you will know before you strike."

He looked at her uncertainly.

Vanya opened the stairwell door.

"We’re going to learn how."

The door swung inward.

Cold concrete air washed over them.

The screams became louder.

Harold’s expression changed immediately.

The sound was no longer distant enough to pretend it wasn’t real.

Someone was screaming for their mother.

Someone else was shouting that they needed to get out.

A man’s voice yelled something about the elevators.

Then another scream cut through all of them.

Harold instinctively stepped closer to Vanya.

She didn’t tell him to move away.

Instead, she placed one hand briefly against his shoulder.

"Remember what I taught you."

Harold swallowed.

"Observe."

"Again."

"Think before acting."

"Again."

"Survive."

Vanya nodded.

"Good."

She stepped onto the first stair.

Harold followed.

The heavy door slowly swung shut behind them, muffling the hallway sounds for only a moment before the noise from below filled the stairwell again.

Vanya began descending.

Her pace was steady.

Not hurried.

Not hesitant.

Each step brought them closer to the chaos below.

Harold followed one step behind.

His hand remained firmly wrapped around the crowbar, and although his breathing was still uneven, he no longer looked like the terrified boy who had stood inside the apartment moments earlier.

He looked like someone trying very hard to become the person Vanya believed he could be.

And Vanya intended to make sure he did.

Not because the world deserved another soldier.

Because Harold deserved the chance to survive it.