Morning arrived with an eerie stillness.
Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the narrow gap in Noah's curtains, casting long beams across his bedroom floor while dust floated lazily through the air. The warmth should have made the room feel peaceful, but something about the silence felt off.
No birds were greeting the sunrise from the trees outside. No distant hum of engines from parents heading to work. No barking dogs, lawnmowers, or children waiting for the school bus.
The world had gone quiet—except that the occasional groan of a walker managed to reach him through the walls.
Noah stirred beneath the blankets, his eyelids fluttering as he fought against the last remnants of sleep. He rolled onto his back and stared at the familiar ceiling for several seconds before yesterday's memories slowly returned.
The school.
The System.
The graves beneath the old tree.
His chest tightened.
For a brief moment, he'd hoped sleep might have separated him from everything that had happened. It hadn't. The world was still broken, and his parents were still gone.
Noah rubbed a hand over his face before pushing himself upright. He expected the exhaustion from yesterday to greet him, but instead his body felt remarkably light.
The soreness from fighting walkers, running across the city, digging graves, and spending hours hunting afterward had faded to little more than a faint stiffness.
He rolled his shoulders.
Even that disappeared.
Noah paused.
"...Does leveling up affect recovery, or does Constitution govern that?"
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"Constitution, probably."
He didn't know that for certain, but it made the most sense. The System had already shown him that his attributes affected his physical capabilities, and he'd felt the difference immediately after gaining his first few levels.
It was another piece of the puzzle.
One he'd have to figure out eventually.
For now, Noah crossed the room and gently pulled the curtain aside.
The morning sun painted the neighborhood in warm shades of gold. Houses stood exactly where they always had, cars remained parked along the curbs—some in driveways, while a gentle breeze stirred the leaves of the trees lining the street.
For a moment, it almost looked normal.
Then a walker wandered into view.
Another emerged from between two parked cars.
Then another.
Noah's eyes slowly swept across the neighborhood.
There were dozens.
Maybe hundreds.
Nowhere near the number they'd encountered yesterday at school or when night fell, but still far more than he'd seen after leaving the school grounds.
He watched them from behind the safety of his bedroom window. Their movements seemed even more sluggish than he'd remembered, with some barely doing anything beyond wandering aimlessly through the streets.
Noah rested a hand against the window frame.
"They're not as active during the day."
He watched one stumble into the side of a parked car before turning and continuing down the road.
There were still far too many unanswered questions.
Why had everyone transformed?
Why had the System appeared?
Why only humans?
Noah let the curtain fall back into place.
There would be time to find answers.
For now, he needed to focus on surviving.
He dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a fitted black T-shirt before stepping into the hallway. The clothes were comfortable enough to move in without restricting him, something he'd never given much thought to before yesterday.
He stopped outside the guest room and raised a hand to knock.
"Levy?"
Silence.
Noah waited a few seconds before knocking again, slightly louder.
Still nothing.
He frowned.
Is he already awake?
With a quiet yawn, Noah turned away and headed downstairs.
The smell reached him before he even entered the kitchen.
Eggs.
Toast.
Bacon.
And the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Noah rounded the corner and found Levy standing at the stove, a spatula in one hand as he worked over a frying pan. A loaf of bread sat open on the counter beside a nearly empty carton of eggs, while two mugs rested near the coffee maker.
Levy glanced over his shoulder.
"Morning."
Noah looked from him to the food.
"I was wondering where you disappeared to."
Levy chuckled.
"I've been up for a while."
He flipped the eggs with practiced ease before lowering the heat.
"You let me crash here. Figured the least I could do was make breakfast."
Noah walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. He took a sip.
His expression immediately soured.
Coffee is terrible.
Noah grabbed the creamer from the refrigerator and poured a generous amount into the mug until the dark liquid became a pale tan.
Levy watched him.
Then laughed.
"Understandable."
Noah took another sip, paused, then nodded.
"You cook?"
"A little." Levy shrugged. "Living by yourself teaches you pretty quickly that instant noodles aren't a sustainable diet."
A faint smile tugged at Noah's mouth.
"We'll agree to disagree on that."
Levy chuckled before pointing his spatula toward the dining table.
"Alright, bud. Have a seat, food's almost ready."
Noah took a seat and wrapped both hands around his mug, letting the warmth seep into his palms.
A minute later, Levy carried over two plates loaded with scrambled eggs, toast, and several strips of bacon. He set one in front of Noah before taking the seat across from him.
"Hope you don't mind me helping myself," Levy said, picking up his fork. "Figured it'd be a waste to let all this go bad."
Noah shook his head.
"I was thinking the same thing."
Neither of them needed to say why.
There was no telling how long the electricity would continue flowing. The power grid might still be operating normally, or it might already be running on borrowed time. Once it failed, everything in the refrigerator would begin spoiling.
Better to enjoy what they could while they still had it.
The two ate in relative silence, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware against ceramic plates.
Noah finished the last bite of toast and took another sip of coffee.
"I don't think I've ever appreciated a home-cooked breakfast this much."
Levy laughed quietly.
"Funny how the end of the world changes your take on things."
Noah couldn't argue with that.
By the time breakfast was over, both plates had been wiped clean.
Levy gathered the dishes while Noah carried the empty mugs to the sink. They washed everything together before returning it to its proper place.
Noah stretched his arms overhead, feeling the last traces of stiffness leave his shoulders.
"Walkers?"
Levy finished rolling his neck and nodded.
"No point sitting around."
"The stronger we get," Noah said, reaching for his spear near the front door, "the better our chances of staying alive."
Levy picked up the knife he'd grown surprisingly proficient with and tucked it into his waistband.
"And hopefully," he added with a grin, "the less likely we are to end up as breakfast ourselves."
A faint smile crossed Noah's face.
"Let's keep it that way."
Before opening the front door, Noah made one last circuit through the house. He checked each boarded window and tested every lock out of habit, making sure nothing had shifted during the night.
Satisfied, he returned to the entrance.
The moment the door swung open, cool morning air greeted them. Beyond the porch, walkers drifted aimlessly through the neighborhood, oblivious to the two survivors watching from the doorway.
Noah rested the butt of his spear against the ground and surveyed the streets.
"Let's see how much stronger we can get today."
Together, they stepped outside.
Noah eased the front door shut as carefully as he could, but the faint click of the latch still carried farther than either of them would've liked.
A walker crossing the street stopped.
Its clouded eyes slowly turned toward the sound.
Then another.
Within seconds, the handful of walkers closest to the house began shambling in their direction. Their movement caught the attention of others farther down the road, creating a slow chain reaction that spread through the streets.
Within moments, more than a dozen walkers were making their way toward them.
Levy sighed.
"So much for sneaking out."
Noah twirled the spear once before settling into a relaxed stance.
"It saves us the trouble of looking for them."
A faint grin spread across Levy's face.
"Fair enough."
Neither rushed forward.
"And this time," Levy added. "Don't go all Rambo, alright?"
"No Rambo, got it."
They waited.
The walkers were slow, and allowing them to funnel together was far safer than charging into the middle of them. Once the first walker wandered within reach, Noah stepped forward.
His spear flashed.
The sharpened steel pierced cleanly through its skull before he yanked it free in one smooth motion. The corpse collapsed at his feet without slowing him down.
〔+5 EXP〕
The second walker met the same fate moments later.
Rather than immediately engaging another, Noah stepped aside.
"Your turn."
Levy nodded and moved past him.
The walker lunged clumsily, its arms reaching toward him. Levy sidestepped the attack with far more confidence than he'd shown yesterday before driving the tips of his scissors into the walker's temple.
He twisted.
The body crumpled.
A translucent notification appeared before him.
〔+5 EXP〕
Noah noticed the small smile that tugged at Levy's mouth.
"You've gotten better."
"I'd hope so."
Levy pulled his scissors free before glancing toward the remaining walkers.
"I've killed enough of these things now that they're starting to feel predictable."
"They are."
Noah watched another walker stumble toward them.
"They don't think. They react. Once you understand how they move, it's easier to deal with them."
Levy ducked beneath another clumsy swipe before burying his scissors into the walker's skull.
"So we should be studying them instead of just killing them."
Noah nodded.
"Exactly."
Yesterday, survival hadn't given them the luxury of stopping to observe.
Today, they had time.
And if they wanted to survive whatever came next, Noah knew they couldn't spend every day simply reacting.
They needed to start adapting.