And so the gods got to work.
They scanned the population, eyes drifting across the civilized zombies going about their day, looking for a candidate.
Then one of them stopped.
"…this poor guy."
They all looked.
A middle aged zombie man standing at a bus stop, briefcase in hand, same spot he'd probably been standing at for the past twenty something years. Same job. Same routine. Same bus. Same everything.
"Let's mutate it."
Nobody argued.
They pushed the mutation through.
The man was mid-yawn when it hit him.
He froze.
Then the screaming started.
His body lurched forward, spine cracking as something shifted underneath. His dad bod—already generously sized—began expanding, stretching outward, growing faster than his clothes could handle. His frame broadened, bones popping and reshaping, his whole body structure rewriting itself from the inside out.
The man screamed louder.
The other civilized zombies at the bus stop slowly turned to look at him.
Then went back to waiting for the bus.
BEEP!
[The system detected an anomaly change in ^!*% due to %^!%]
"HA?" The administrator shot up from her chair. She stared at the notification for a second. "You know what—never mind, I'll find it myself."
She started digging through the system manually, fingers flying across the panel.
It took her a few seconds.
"THOSE FUCKING CHILDISH GODS—"
She slammed her hand on the desk.
External forces meddling with earth's affairs.
She could see it clearly now—something was mutating creatures on the surface, randomly, with zero reason behind it other than boredom.
She pulled up her administrator privileges and immediately hit a wall.
Limited access. She was new. Her clearance only stretched so far.
She clicked her tongue and worked with what she had, scanning through the list of available countermeasures.
Can't stop them directly. Can't block the mutations outright.
But she could add debuffs.
Every time they pushed a mutation through — she'd slap a penalty straight on top of it. Making whatever they cooked up come with a cost.
She cracked her knuckles.
"Alright. You wanna play? Let's play."
[??? — Mutation : every 5 seconds +50kg weight]
[Debuff : must sustain its own weight… if not—]
The gods stared at it.
"…?"
"Did you add those debuffs?"
"Huh? I don't think so."
"…weird."
"Ohh well."
They shrugged it off and went back to watching.
At the bus stop—
The doors hissed open.
The middle aged zombie man stood there, briefcase still in hand, body still expanding, clothes barely holding on at this point.
The bus driver looked at him.
"Are you coming or what?"
"SHREEEECKK—!"
The other civilized zombies waiting at the stop slowly started backing away. One of them shuffled to the complete opposite end of the bench. Another one pretended to check their phone. Another just turned around and faced the wall.
Nobody wanted any part of whatever was happening to that guy.
The bus driver stared.
The middle aged zombie man stared back, still screeching, still growing, the ground beneath him starting to crack under the weight.
It lunged.
Arms swinging wild, eyes locked on the bus, a full screech tearing out of its throat as it charged straight for the doors.
The driver's hand slammed the button on instinct.
The doors hissed shut.
The middle aged zombie man's face hit the glass.
Then—
+50kg.
BLUG.
His knees buckled. Both of them. He dropped straight down onto the pavement, briefcase clattering beside him, completely blindsided by the extra weight that had just stacked onto his frame.
The gods watched.
Five seconds passed.
+50kg.
Flat. Face down on the ground now, arms splayed out, unable to push himself back up.
Five more seconds.
+50kg.
Then another.
+50kg.
He stopped moving.
Crushed under his own weight, unable to lift a single limb, until eventually he just… didn't anymore.
The gods stared in silence.
"…well." one of them muttered. "That escalated quickly."
"You win some, you lose some." another one shrugged.
"Or rather…" another one added. "You lose some to win some."
A slow clap started somewhere in the back.
"Alright… next. Next."