A low groan of ice shifting somewhere far below the building's frame echoed faintly, but Ron didn't stir.
He was already awake.
Lying still beneath layers of thick blankets, he stared at the cracked ceiling, feeling the weight of warmth curled up against him. Priya's right hand rested gently on his chest, her left looped possessively around his arm. Her breath came soft and slow, fogging slightly in the morning chill. Her hair spilled across the pillow like ink across parchment.
For a moment, Ron just watched her, his hand resting lightly on her bare shoulder.
Last night...
The memories flickered through his mind like firelight.
The way she had shivered when he carried her to bed in the dark. The quiet gasps against his neck. Her fingers tightening in his hair. Her skin, warm and trembling under his touch. The tender moan when he kissed her collarbone—soft enough to break something inside him. She hadn't pushed him away. She had melted into him, like someone finally allowed to stop running. There were no words, just heat and aching hearts finding each other.
He hadn't wanted to let go. Not when the world outside was frozen and cruel.
But eventually, he'd laid her down gently, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and watched her drift off with the kind of peace he hadn't seen on her face since this nightmare began.
He slid out from beneath the covers without waking her, shivering as his feet touched the cold, bare floor. He pulled on a thick hoodie and padded barefoot into the small kitchen space, the air still holding the night's chill. The windows were frosted over, the outside light bleeding in pale and bluish. He grabbed two frozen water bottles from a crate and set them to thaw on a small heating plate.
As the water heated, Ron washed his face in the basin, the icy splash dragging him fully into the morning.
Then he took last night's leftover rice, crumbled in a vacuum-sealed packet of soybeans, and added a sprinkle of garam masala. The spicy scent slowly filled the room, clashing with the sterile chill.
Behind him, soft footsteps approached.
"Good morning," Priya said, her voice rough and sleep-heavy.
Ron turned, a half-smile on his face. "Morning."
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed under the oversized grey sweater she'd slipped on. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were still soft from sleep.
He nodded toward the washbasin. "Go freshen up. Breakfast's ready."
Priya tilted her head, her lips quirking into a small smirk. "Okay, darling."
Ron blinked.
By the time he registered the word, she'd already vanished into the bathroom.
He stared at the empty doorway, then laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. His heart was beating faster than it should.
"Darling, huh?" he muttered.
Somehow, it didn't sound wrong.
The morning was quiet inside their apartment, with only the faint whistling of wind brushing against the windows. Ron and Priya sat together at the small dining table tucked beside the kitchen—just enough space for two. Their breath fogged the air slightly, the cold creeping in despite the layers of insulation.
They ate in silence, savoring the warmth of the food. Steam rose from the mugs between them, and for a moment, the brutal world outside felt distant.
After a while, Ron set down his cup and looked at Priya. "It's getting worse out there. The wind… the cold… everything."
She met his gaze. "You don't want to go out today?"
"We don't have a choice." His tone was firm but calm. "If we stop killing, we stop evolving. We might be safe in this building for now. But safety doesn't last. Strength is the only thing that does."
Priya nodded without hesitation. "Then I'll fight beside you. I want to evolve too, Ron. I want to help you—in everything."
He gave her a brief, warm look. Then, without another word, they began preparing.
Ron slipped on his black hoodie, tugging the sleeves over his gloves. Priya dressed in her thick grey turtleneck sweater and dark jeans, her hair tied back loosely. She strapped the empty cloth bag over her shoulder and tightened her grip on a long kitchen knife. Ron picked up his axe—its blade sharpened to a gleam.
As they stepped out into the hallway, heading for the stairs, a voice called out from behind.
"Ron! Wait!"
They turned.
It was Jiya.
She stood at the doorway of her room, breath visible in the cold air. The white fur-lined winter jacket hugged her body, outlining the gentle curves of her waist and chest. Her blue jeans clung to her toned legs, and loose strands of her long black hair framed her fair, flushed face.
Ron blinked. "Jiya?"
Before he could say more, she stepped forward. "I want to come with you guys. I want to learn to fight."
There was a pause. Her expression was serious, but her eyes held something else—determination.
Ron didn't respond immediately, but Priya smiled softly. "You can come. But stay back and watch for now. Help us if we need it."
Jiya nodded quickly. "Thanks, Priya."
Together, the three of them headed down the stairs. As they reached the first floor, they stopped in surprise—snow had completely buried the entrance. A frozen wall of white blocked the way.
"The second floor is the ground floor now," Ron muttered grimly.
They climbed back up and exited through the balcony of the second floor, now acting as the building's main entrance. A thick blanket of snow covered the entire street. Vehicles, storefronts, and sidewalks were swallowed whole. The world had shrunk.
Almost every zombie was frozen stiff—some mid-step, others tangled in one another like fallen puppets. The wind shrieked as it tore through the air, merciless and sharp.
Jiya huddled near the balcony's edge to keep warm while Ron and Priya stepped into the clearing. Together, they began methodically breaking the frozen bodies apart—Ron with his axe, Priya with her knife.
It wasn't long before they developed a rhythm. Ron moved ahead, using his new sense to locate zombies that still held cores in their bellies. Those were the only ones worth collecting. The rest were left to the frost.
After nearly an hour, a small hill of broken corpses had formed.
"Jiya!" Priya called from beside the pile.
The girl slowly approached, her breath catching as she surveyed the twisted mountain of frozen limbs and shattered skulls. She was bewildered by Ron and Priya's amazing coordination, working together as if they were one."
Priya knelt and pointed to a corpse. "See the navel near the stomach? That's where the core is. Slice above it and pull the core out."
She demonstrated with ease, the core glinting in her hand like a strange jewel.
Jiya hesitated, but her fingers moved. Slowly, carefully, she began her first extraction. And then another.
By the time evening's grey light settled in, they had collected nearly two hundred cores.
They were just turning to head back when the sound came.
A growl—low, guttural, and wrong.
Ron turned first. Then Priya.
And then they saw them.
Dozens of dog-like creatures crawled into view, stalking low in the snow. There were more than fifty.
At first glance, they looked like hairless hounds—but closer inspection twisted the image into horror. Their long fangs jutted from open jaws, their tails were swollen and thick. No fur covered their flesh. But worst of all… were their ears.
Human ears.
And their noses—flat, nostrils flared like a person gasping for air. Their skin, tight and bruised-looking, shimmered oddly in the dim light.
Priya took a shaky breath. "What the hell are those?"
Jiya froze. Her hands trembled, her mouth parted in horror. She had seen people turn into monsters. She had seen flesh torn and eaten.
But this?
This was different.
This was wrong.
Before she could scream, Ron grabbed her hand. "Run!"
They bolted. The dog-things snarled and gave chase, bounding forward on limbs too long and flexible, climbing over walls like spiders with muscle.
"They're fast!" Priya shouted.
One of the creatures lunged for Ron—but before it could strike, an invisible force snapped its body midair like a dry twig. Bones cracked. Flesh folded in on itself.
Then another.
And another.
A gravitational wave rippled through the snowfield, crushing the beasts like paper.
A moment later, someone stepped out from behind a ruined building. Tall, with blonde hair and a confident, arrogant smirk, he wore a brown leather jacket, black jeans, and mountain boots. He calmly surveyed Ron, Priya, and Jiya.
"Well, well," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Looks like these human-faced dogs were really ruining your evening." His eyes then slid to Priya, a perverted smirk spreading across his face. "Priya, is that really you? You're alive! Do you have any idea how much effort I've put into finding you? I genuinely thought you were gone." He began to advance, his gaze fixed on her.