A low mechanical hum threaded through the air, rising above the desolate silence as three silver buses rolled steadily toward the cafeteria. Their engines purred, but even that subtle noise echoed ominously across the ruined campus.
The sound was enough.
Zombies began to stir— their growls grew stronger, some staggered out of buildings, few dragging broken limbs as they zeroed in on the noise like moths to a flame.
But they were met with fire.
From the top of the lead bus, Nero stood with one hand raised high. Flameballs spiraled from his palm, lighting up the air with blazing arcs before crashing into the undead with explosive bursts.
Charred limbs flew; mangled torsos rolled. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes gleamed—a golden inferno reflecting the chaos below.
