The emergency stairwell was stiflingly quiet, the only sound the soft, measured tread of Ace's sneakers against the concrete. He kept his back straight and Tensa Zangetsu drawn, the black blade angled perfectly in a ready guard as he climbed.
He reached the landing for the 42nd floor and pushed the heavy fire door open.
It was more of the same—another disorienting glass labyrinth of executive suites. But as Ace stepped onto the plush, ash-covered carpet, he took a moment to really look at the devastation. The silence here felt heavier. Through the transparent walls, he could see the remnants of interrupted lives: a spilled coffee mug staining a pristine mahogany desk, an expensive ergonomic chair knocked over in a frantic rush, and a whiteboard in a conference room that still proudly displayed "Q3 Synergy Goals" right next to a massive smear of dried, mutated blood.
He began his sweep, moving slowly down the central corridor. The glass walls were both a blessing and a curse. He could see that no massive hordes were standing in the open, but the sheer number of reflections made every shifting shadow look like a threat. Worse, the shuttered rooms loomed like sealed vaults, hiding whatever nightmares might have gotten trapped inside.
He found his first target in a massive corner office.
A standard Walker was trapped inside. It wore the shredded, filthy remains of a tailored suit. When it caught sight of Ace through the glass, it didn't possess the cognitive function to figure out the doorknob. Instead, it began mindlessly slamming its decaying face and palms against the thick glass, leaving foul, oily smears of black sludge on the pristine pane.
Ace didn't hesitate. He stepped up to the office door, turned the handle, and pulled it open.
The Walker stumbled forward, instantly off-balance from the sudden lack of resistance. Ace cleanly side-stepped the clumsy lunge and brought Zangetsu across the creature's neck in a frictionless, horizontal arc. The body collapsed instantly, the severed head rolling under a leather sofa.
The Origin Veil flared to life. The zombie's flesh rapidly desiccated into a hollow, gray husk, and a crimson Gene Ability Crystal materialized in the chest cavity before shattering into sparkling violet and sapphire motes. The energy drifted directly into Ace's chest.
[PROXIMITY SIPHON SUCCESSFUL]
Target: Tier 1 Walker (Standard Variant)
Essence Purified: +1 UP
Current UP: 17
Ace flicked the black blade to clear it, noting the specific target identification the system provided. He methodically moved down the corridors, pulling the heavy glass doors of the offices shut behind him. Since the walls were mostly transparent, closing the doors wasn't about blocking sightlines—it was about physical containment. If he missed a Walker hiding under a desk, or if something was waiting silently in one of the shuttered offices, a latched door ensured it couldn't simply wander out and ambush him from behind.
After securing the 42nd floor, he scavenged whatever small desk snacks he could find—mostly stale mints and half-empty bags of almonds—and piled his meager loot by the stairwell door. Without wasting momentum, he opened the fire doors and climbed the stairs to Floor 43.
He pushed his way onto the 43rd floor, his blade raised and his senses dialed to the maximum.
This floor was entirely different. It was the Accounting and HR department—a dense, claustrophobic grid of low-walled cubicles. But as Ace spent a tense forty-five minutes checking every aisle, sweeping every corner, and clearing every blind spot, a strange realization washed over him.
Nothing was here.
Floor 43 was completely abandoned. There were no husks, no variants, and no signs of a struggle. But unlike the floors below, it didn't look like people had just vanished mid-keystroke. Desk drawers were left hanging open, personal bags were missing, and several computer towers had been hastily unplugged and taken. Whoever had been on this floor had actually had time to pack up and try to flee. Where they ended up was a mystery Ace didn't want to think about.
With the threat level at zero, Ace transitioned from combat mode to pure, methodical scavenging. His gamer logic took over; this was the resource management phase.
The quiet floor yielded excellent results. In a massive employee lounge, he found an undisturbed first-aid cabinet, giving him a massive restock of heavy-duty bandages, gauze, and medical tape. Better yet, in a receptionist's desk drawer, he found a high-quality travel sewing kit—an absolute necessity for maintaining any unreinforced clothing or gear in the future.
He finally made his way into the massive, corporate breakroom at the center of the floor, pulling open the heavy pantry doors. He hit the absolute jackpot.
Sitting on the bottom shelf was a forgotten, untouched flat of instant mac and cheese cups, alongside several vacuum-sealed bags of premium, pepper-seasoned steak jerky. Ace stared at the dead microwaves on the counter, his stomach letting out a violent rumble. He was so incredibly sick of dry protein bars. He would gladly trade half his UP right now for a steaming plate of Japanese hibachi or a greasy quesadilla, but in the apocalypse, shelf-stable comfort food was the currency of kings. He stuffed the jerky and the pasta cups into a large cardboard copy-paper box he found near the printers.
By the time Ace finished meticulously combing through the 41st, 42nd, and 43rd floors, the hazy daylight filtering through the windows had shifted to the deep, bruised orange of late afternoon. It had taken him a solid two hours of tense, focused effort.
He carried his loaded cardboard box from the 43rd floor down to the 42nd, added the small pile of snacks he had left by the door, and awkwardly hauled the massive bounty of survival gear down the final flights of stairs back to Floor 40.
He pushed his way through his barricades and dumped the food, bandages, and sewing kit onto his supply table inside the Costume Department Armory. The absolute physical exhaustion of the day's climb and the heavy hauling was finally setting in. But as he dropped onto the leather couch of his safe zone and unbuttoned his heavy red coat, a grin spread across his face.