Rosalia's POV
The sound that swallowed the world around us was not merely the clash of battle…
It was closer to the collapse of an entire reality.
The air itself felt heavy—thick, saturated with the metallic sting of blood, the rust of iron, and the sickening rot of decaying flesh. The stench clung to the lungs, invasive and suffocating, as if every breath carried death deeper into the body.
Zombies were everywhere.
They surged forward like an endless black tide, a grotesque current of broken bodies and twisted limbs. Their movements were wrong—jerky, unnatural, as if their joints no longer obeyed the logic of life. Their glassy eyes reflected nothing, hollow and vacant, yet somehow brimming with a chilling, unnatural hunger.
But they weren't what made my spine shiver.
No…
It was the ones standing behind them.
Humans.
Humans controlling them.
I saw them clearly this time—because we had all moved outside, the battlefield spilling into the open streets.
