One mont, the air would bite at the skin with sharp intensity; the next, it would soften just enough to feel almost normal.
Ivy stood near the boundary of her base, feeling the shift against her face.
’This... wasn’t how it was before.’
In her previous life, the cold had been absolute. Unchanging. Relentless.
But now... Everything was different. Yet, instead of feeling uneasy, Ivy smiled faintly.
"This isn’t instability..." she whispered. Her eyes glead. "It’s possibility."
If the future could fluctuate... Then it could be changed. And that... Was sothing she had never been given before.
.......................
With renewed focus, Ivy began refining her control.
Now, not only could she slice off a portion of her protective field, but she could also divide it further into smaller segnts, precise, controlled, and efficient.
Each fragnt could be assigned individually. She started with the people closest to her Her family. Her trusted ones.
As each fragnt settled around them, she could faintly feel the connection, like invisible threads tying them back to her.
’Now... they’re safe.’
anwhile, the antidote had completed all stages of testing. It was finally being distributed.
Boxes of it were transported to grocery stores across different areas, neatly placed on shelves like any ordinary product.
But there was nothing ordinary about it. When the general public first saw it, they froze.
A murmur spread through the crowd. "An antidote...?"
"Is this real?"
Suspicion filled their eyes.
mories of the so-called "superpower awakening potion" resurfaced, how it had once caused a massive craze, only to be exposed as nothing more than a scam.
"So how can we trust this one?" soone muttered. Doubt lingered heavily in the air.
And yet... There was one thing that held them back from outright rejecting it.
SiIvy base. A na that carried weight. Prestige. Reliability.
"If it’s from them... it shouldn’t be fake," another person whispered hesitantly.
With uncertainty still etched across their faces, people began buying it.
One by one. Cautiously.
Soon enough, every unit was sold out.
The antidotes were then taken to the prison facilities, where captured zombies were held behind reinforced barriers.
The air there was thick, heavy with the sll of tal, disinfectant, and sothing far more unsettling.
Fear. Hope. Desperation. People lined up, each holding a vial tightly in their hands.
So hands trembled. Others clenched firmly, as if afraid to let go. They approached the cells one by one.
Ivy could have made the treatnt free. She had the ans. She had the power. But she didn’t.
’Kindness without limits... becos foolishness.’
She understood that well. The researchers had spent countless hours, energy, and risk developing the antidote.
Their effort deserved value. And so, she chose balance. Kind, but not reckless.
The antidote worked faster than expected. Word began to spread rapidly among the public.
"It’s real...It actually works..."
Hope, real hope... started to take root.
Among those who ca forward was a young man nad Xander. His grip tightened around the vial as he walked, his breath uneven.
Inside the prison... Was his mother. Casey. She had turned into a zombie while protecting him.
The mory still haunted him, the mont she pushed him away, choosing to face the danger alone.
Even after joining SiIvy base and building a stable life, that guilt had never left him. When the program to locate zombie relatives was introduced, he signed up without hesitation.
And when he found her...he paid extra to ensure she would be kept in a facility he could visit every day.
Now... He stood outside her cell. His hands trembled slightly, the vial reflecting faint light.
’Please... just this once...’
He swallowed hard. "Mom..."
His voice cracked. "Casey..."
Inside the cell, the figure stirred. Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her eyes... Empty. Blank. She looked at him... but there was no recognition. No emotion. Just a hollow gaze.
Casey was one of the rare cases. A silent zombie. She never growled. Never attacked. She simply... existed. Like a shell.
The research teams had already discovered this phenonon. Not all zombies were violent. Around ninety-five percent were aggressive and uncontrollable.
But five percent... were different. Quiet. Unresponsive. Almost... harmless. They looked dull, as if sothing within them was missing.
But from Ivy’s perspective... These were the ones closest to becoming half-zombies. Because they didn’t chase humans. They didn’t spread the infection mindlessly. And that alone made them... special.
Jay’s research team had taken this even further. They developed a theory. If these blank zombies were treated with the antidote... they might retain their original powers.
The implications were enormous. Level 1 zombies might keep traces of poison-based abilities. Level 2 could retain enhanced speed.
Level 3 could retain both strength and speed. And Level 4... Their speed reached such an extre that it resembled teleportation itself.
A terrifying thought... Yet, also... A hopeful one.
From a researcher’s perspective... This was an exceptionally rare case.
When Casey was finally given the antidote by Xander, Jason and a few other researchers gathered just outside the reinforced glass, their eyes fixed on her every movent, notebooks and devices ready to record even the slightest change.
Xander stood there, his hands trembling slightly, his gaze shifting between the researchers and his mother.
’Please... just work... just this once...’
Inside the cell, Casey sat quietly. She had been... obedient.
When Xander had offered her the herbal drink along with the antidote, she had hesitated for only a brief mont before accepting it. Her movents had been slow, almost chanical, yet strangely calm.
After drinking it, she lowered herself onto the ground, her expression returning to that sa blank, hollow state.
Ti passed. Seconds stretched into minutes. Each tick felt heavier than the last.
Xander’s heart began to sink. A bitter, fragile smile slowly appeared on his face.
’Of course... how could it be that easy...?’
Life had a cruel way of doing this, giving hope in one mont, only to snatch it away in the next.
When he handed her the antidote, he would be lying if he claid he didn’t feel hope.
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