"Breach it," Adrian simply ordered.
Ryan didnât repeat it.
He stepped aside and gave a short hand signal.
Two operators moved up immediately, positioning themselves on either side of the door. One reached for the handle and tested it first.
Locked.
"Solid door," he said quietly. "Reinforced."
Ryan glanced at it once.
Clean finish.
No visible damage.
High-end residential security.
"Doesnât matter," he replied.
The second operator already had a breaching tool ready. He set it against the lock mechanism, angling it carefully.
"Ready," he said.
Ryan nodded.
"Do it."
The tool bit into the locking system with a sharp, contained force. Metal gave way with a dull crack, the internal mechanism snapping under pressure.
The operator pulled back.
Ryan didnât wait.
He pushed the door open and stepped in first, weapon raised.
"Clear left."
"Clear right."
The team flowed in behind him, sweeping the unit in practiced motion, each man taking a sector, clearing angles before moving deeper.
At first, nothing, there was no movement, and no immediate contact.
But the difference from the hallway was obvious.
This place had been lived in.
Adrian stepped in slowly, eyes scanning.
The interior was intact.
It was clean compared to everything else they had seen.
A small living area opened up just past the entrance. Furniture was in place, not overturned. A table sat near the center, and on it.
An unopened water bottle.
Beside it, a cup of instant noodles.
Half-finished.
Ryan noticed it too.
"She was here," he said.
"Recently," Adrian added.
There was no dust on the surface. No signs of decay inside the unit like the rest of the building.
Whoever stayed here had kept it sealed.
Adrianâs gaze shifted toward the windows.
Covered.
Every single one.
Layers of newspaper taped across the glass, blocking out sunlight completely. The room was dim, lit only by faint indoor lighting that barely cut through the shadows.
"Light discipline," Ryan said quietly.
"Or hiding," Adrian replied.
One of the operators moved toward the inner hallway.
"Clearing bedroom," he said.
He stepped in and paused.
Ryan caught it immediately.
"What is it?"
The operator didnât answer right away. Moments later, he responded.
"Movement."
Ryan raised his weapon.
"Contact."
A second later, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the inner room.
A baseball bat raised in both hands.
"Back!" the lead operator shouted.
But she didnât swing immediately.
She stopped just short of them, breathing hard, eyes wide behind thin-framed glasses.
Adrian saw her clearly now.
Her hair was long.
Silver.
Tied neatly behind her with a ribbon, though a few loose strands had fallen around her face. She wore a casual Korean-style outfit, a loose cream sweater layered over a light shirt, paired with fitted dark slacks. It looked simple, practical, something she had been wearing for days without changing.
For a moment, no one moved.
Weapons were still trained.
Her breathing was steadying.
Then she spoke.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice low but clear. "how did you get in here?"
The team didnât respond.
A few of them glanced at each other.
Ryan didnât lower his weapon.
Adrian stepped forward instead.
Not too close.
Just enough to show he was the one speaking.
"Look, we donât speak Korean. We are from the Philippines, a paramilitary company. We came here to get you out of this country so we can figure out the virus."
She didnât lower the bat right away.
Her eyes moved across the room, taking in everything.
The weapons.
The gear.
The way the men held their positions without stepping on each otherâs line of fire.
This wasnât a random group.
This wasnât desperate survivors.
She understood that much.
"...Philippines?" she repeated, slower this time, like she was testing the word in her head.
Adrian held her gaze.
"Yes."
There was a short pause.
Then she shifted her weight slightly, still keeping the bat up, but no longer in a striking position.
"You came all the way here... for me?" she asked.
"Not just for you," Adrian replied. "For what you know."
Ryan remained still beside him, weapon still up but no longer as aggressive. His finger wasnât on the trigger anymore, but he didnât drop his guard either.
The woman noticed that too.
"You said... paramilitary," she continued. "Youâre not government."
"No," Adrian said.
"Then why risk this?" she asked. "Why Korea?"
Adrian didnât rush his answer.
"Because this didnât start and end here," he said. "Weâve seen what it does outside. It spreads fast. Faster than any response."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Youâve seen cases outside Korea?"
"Yes."
That landed.
You could see it in the way her posture changed, the way her grip on the bat loosened just a little more.
She looked down for a second.
Thinking.
Then back at him.
"...How bad?" she asked.
Adrian didnât sugarcoat it.
"Bad enough that weâre here."
"So, letâs go now, we should get out of here before the zombies come here," Adrian said.
"No, not this time, thereâs something out there," she said.
"What do you mean?" Adrian tilted his head to the side, and then suddenly, there was a brief tremor.
"Earthquake," Ryan said.
"No, itâs appearing..."
The tremor didnât last long.
Just a few seconds.
But it was enough to make the glasses on the table rattle and the loose items shift slightly across the surface.
The team reacted immediately.
Weapons tightened.
Stances adjusted.
Eyes moving.
"Everyone hold," Ryan said, steady but alert.
The vibration stopped.
Silence followed.
But it didnât feel like it was over.
Adrian looked at her.
"What do you mean itâs appearing?" he asked.
She didnât answer right away.
Instead, she turned and moved toward the window.
Ryanâs weapon tracked her movement out of instinct, but Adrian raised a hand slightly.
"Let her move," he said.
She reached the floor-to-ceiling window, the one sealed completely with layers of newspaper. The edges were taped carefully, no gaps, no light bleeding through.
She stopped in front of it.
Then looked back at Adrian.
"Come here," she said.
Adrian didnât hesitate.
He moved toward her, stopping just beside the window.
She reached up and peeled a small section of the newspaper aside, just enough to create a narrow slit.
"Look," she said.
Adrian leaned in slightly and looked through the gap.