"As for my abilities," the man said, his voice rough, tired. "I think I know where I got them. They appeared after I killed a zombie with an axe. When the body dropped, sothing... fell out."
A few gasps ca from the crowd. The cara shook as he reached into his pocket and held up a small, crimson object between his fingers.
"It must’ve co from inside them," the man went on. "At first, I didn’t know what it was. But then I realized — it ca from where their heart should’ve been. I call them heart stones."
The cara zood in. There, resting in his palm, were three small stones — slick with dried blood, faintly pulsing with a dim red glow.
The crowd murmured again, louder this ti.
"I ate one," the man continued bluntly, as though daring the viewer to judge him.
"I know it sounds insane, but when I did... sothing happened. I felt stronger. My body healed faster. My strength — it was unreal. I fought another one after that, and it was easier. I ate more stones. And every ti, I grew stronger."
He lifted his arm toward the cara, showing the faint scars of what looked like bite marks, already healed.
"But not all zombies have them," he added grimly. "Maybe one in a hundred. The rest are just empty."
The man’s expression hardened. "These stones are the key. They’re dangerous... but they’re power. If we want to survive, if we want to fight back — this is how."
The screen froze, and the image of the man’s determined face lingered.
For several seconds, no one in the hall moved or spoke.
The silence was thick, heavy with disbelief and tension. So looked terrified.
Others were fascinated.
A few whispered among themselves, the word heart stone passing from mouth to mouth like a secret.
Ross finally broke the silence.
"You’ve heard him," he said, his voice calm but commanding.
"The world has changed. And if what this man says is true, then humanity’s only hope may lie in the very monsters that destroyed it."
He took a few slow steps forward, hands clasped behind his back.
"This... power. If it’s real, then we need to understand it — how it works, how to control it, and what it does to the human body. Eating these stones might grant strength... or it might turn you into the very thing you’re fighting."
A man in the crowd raised his hand nervously.
"You think it’s real? That soone could actually do all that?"
Ross looked him directly in the eye. "You’ve seen the sa videos I have," he said simply. "You tell ."
The man lowered his gaze, saying nothing.
Ross turned back to the screen.
"We’ll verify this ourselves soon enough. But one thing’s clear — the rules of survival have changed. The weak will perish, the strong will rise. And we..." His voice deepened, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "...will not be the ones who fall."
Karen, standing with her sisters near the back, exchanged uneasy looks.
The determination in Ross’s tone was unmistakable — but so was sothing else.
A dangerous confidence. A quiet fire that suggested he already knew more than he was letting on.
***
"Maybe you don’t have to go, Ross. Leave it to your soldiers," Sophia said, her voice trembling slightly despite her effort to sound calm.
Her beautiful face, frad by long black hair, was pale with worry.
She clutched the sleeve of his combat jacket tightly, as if her grip alone could keep him from leaving.
Ross turned toward her, his expression softening. For a brief mont, the commanding aura he carried seed to fade, replaced by the warmth of a husband looking at the woman he loved.
"I can’t, Sophia," he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"This isn’t just another battle. This is the start of sothing bigger — sothing that could change everything for us. It’s too great an opportunity to pass up."
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, a brief but tender gesture ant to calm her heart.
"I’ll be fine," he murmured. "You know ."
Sophia bit her lip, her eyes glistening.
She knew him too well — knew that once Ross decided sothing, there was no stopping him.
Before she could respond, a clear voice cut through the tension. "Let go with you, Father. I can help you."
Ross turned. Standing at the edge of the room was a tall young man — his eldest son, Alistair.
At twenty-five, he was already a striking figure: broad-shouldered, sharp-jawed, his father’s steel-grey eyes filled with determination.
Ross smiled faintly. "Alistair..."
Alistair stepped closer.
"If this mission is as dangerous as it sounds, you’ll need by your side."
Ross shook his head firmly. "No. You’re staying here."
"Father—"
Ross placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his grip strong and steady. "Your duty is to your mother and your siblings now. Protect them for . That’s what I expect you to do, son."
Alistair’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin line.
He wanted to argue, but the look in his father’s eyes silenced him. After a long pause, he finally nodded. "Yes... Father."
Ross smiled again, pride flickering in his eyes. "Good man."
He stepped away and turned toward the massive tal hatch at the end of the hall.
The air was thick with the sound of machinery.
A deep chanical groan echoed through the underground base as the enormous doors began to open.
Blinding white light poured in from outside, revealing a scene that looked like sothing out of a war movie.
Rows upon rows of armored vehicles stretched across the vast open yard — each bristling with weapons.
Heavy machine guns mounted on rotating turrets, rocket pods gleaming in the light, steel plates polished and reinforced.
Dozens of soldiers in black tactical suits stood in formation, waiting for their commander’s orders.
Ross exhaled slowly, the weight of command settling on his shoulders.
He turned back to face his family — Sophia, Alistair, and the others watching nearby.
"I’m going to bring back enough heart stones for all of us," he said, his voice carrying confidence and promise.
"When I return, no one under this roof will ever have to live in fear again."
Sophia swallowed hard. "Ross..."
He gave her one last smile — the kind that carried both reassurance and farewell — then lowered his helt over his head.
The visor locked into place with a hiss, and the faint blue glow of the HUD lit his face from within.
A mont later, he climbed into the lead vehicle — a massive, black armored truck that looked more like a moving fortress than a car.
The engine roared to life, joined by the thunderous rumble of a dozen others behind it.
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