Xavier stood before her, his expression grim as he relayed the latest news. The zombies had nearly breached the base.
The walls had held, but barely. Everyone inside was working tirelessly to reinforce the barricades, their bodies pushed to exhaustion.
Supplies were running low, and desperation was beginning to set in.
He spoke with the authority of a leader, someone who commanded both respect and fear, but Athena couldn't shake the strange feeling creeping up her spine.
Even as he wore the uniform of a military man, something about him didn't fit.
It was subtle, but undeniable, like a mask worn too loosely, a role he was merely playing rather than embodying.
His posture was too casual, too assured, as if he wasn't bound by the same rigid discipline the soldiers lived by.
There was a controlled recklessness about him, a quiet but unmistakable dominance that made her wonder if he was truly a part of the military at all.
