The smell of smoke and blood hung over the courtyard like fog.
The mana zombies weren't slowing. More poured from the broken buildings, the gardens, the hallways that once led to classrooms. Their movements were wrong—unbalanced, as if their bodies remembered how to move but not why.
And still, they came.
Conner stood in the centre of it all, breath steady, bow drawn.
His Phantom Arrow ability had changed the field. Every time he landed a clean shot, a second, silent arrow would rip through the enemy seconds later, piercing from unexpected angles. It felt like fighting with a ghost at his side.
But even with their new powers, they were barely holding the line.
Joey staggered past him, molten metal swirling behind him like a cape. He didn't even touch it anymore—just directed it with raw instinct. His axe floated at his side, then zipped forward with a snap, smashing a zombie back into a stone pillar.
Joey grinned. "Tell me that's not the coolest thing you've ever seen."
Conner didn't smile, but his next arrow split a creature's knee before it could tackle Neive from behind.
"Don't get cocky," he said.
Behind them, not everyone was doing as well.
A girl with short curly hair and a cracked pair of glasses screamed as a zombie charged her. She held out both hands, and a burst of fire surged forward—wild and uncontrolled. It hit the creature, but also lit a bench and part of the grass.
"Control it, Mira!" someone shouted.
"I'm trying!"
The flames went out with a sharp crack, and Mira dropped to one knee, panting.
Next to her, a skinny guy named Taz wielded a broken broom reinforced with metal strips. He stabbed forward with it, clumsily jabbing a zombie's chest before backing away.
"Didn't think I'd survive the apocalypse with a mop," he muttered. "But here we are."
Just behind them, a shield-bearer named Luc stood like a wall. He didn't have an offensive Trait—his only ability let him absorb shock. But he blocked strike after strike, holding the line while the others recovered.
"I've got this side!" he shouted. "Just keep throwing spells!"
Katie moved like a storm in the middle of it all. Her Frost Anchor floated around her like a spinning glyph, and every spell she cast bent unnaturally—angled in the air, ricocheting off her own ice to strike from behind.
A mana zombie lunged for her throat. She summoned a sheet of frost mid-air that bent ninety degrees to intercept the attack.
It shattered—but bought her a second.
She blasted the zombie backward with a snap-freeze wave and pivoted, eyes burning.
Neive's Echo Draft flickered to life beside her, and a new creature took shape—a fusion of her wolf summon and a snake-like vine crawler. It twisted through the air, biting into two targets before vanishing into mist.
"I can't hold that form long," Neive said, panting.
"It bought us ten seconds," Katie replied. "I'll take it."
A roar shook the walls.
Conner turned just in time to see a larger mana zombie break through the far barricade. It wasn't one of their kills. It was one of their own—a student. Big, fast, bones cracked and glowing from the mana burning inside.
It barrelled into two background defenders.
One girl—Dani—barely raised her knife before the thing crushed her. Her scream cut short.
Another—Briggs—tried to pull her away, but the creature bit deep into his neck before Conner's arrow tore through its skull.
Conner didn't blink.
Didn't hesitate.
He just lowered his bow and muttered, "Clear."
Chadwick landed nearby, his body flickering into visibility as his Shadow Veil dropped.
He exhaled and said nothing, eyes scanning the field.
Then he moved.
He stepped forward, flickered again, vanished—then reappeared behind a cluster of enemies.
His twin daggers moved like fangs. One slash across the back of the neck, a kick to the spine, a twist to the ribs. Every motion was tight. Clean. Lethal.
He ducked under a swipe, vanished, appeared beside Joey, and said flatly, "That one's regenerating. Your turn."
Joey grinned, lifted both hands—and crushed a steel trash can into a javelin, throwing it straight into the creature's face.
For every moment of victory, another price was paid.
Luc got overwhelmed trying to protect a group of new arrivals. He dropped to a knee, shield splitting under the pressure, but three other survivors pulled him back. Mira, barely conscious, held out both hands and lit two charging zombies on fire.
But she didn't get up again.
She was breathing. But barely.
Taz dragged her behind cover, shaking. "You're not dying here, okay? I'll mop every corpse on campus if I have to!"
Conner passed them with one clean shot—firing without looking.
"Keep her head up," he said.
"I'm trying," Taz replied. "It's heavy."
Later, when the wave finally slowed, the group was soaked in sweat and blood. The ground was a graveyard—ash and bone, frost and shattered weapons.
Chadwick stood near the far wall, arms crossed, cloak torn to ribbons.
He turned toward Conner.
"You're getting faster," he said.
"Not fast enough."
"Maybe not," Chadwick replied. "But you're landing every shot. That's worse—for them."
They took stock.
Mira: alive, unconscious
Luc: both arms sprained, minor fractures
Taz: exhausted, but standing
Dani and Briggs: dead
Three others unaccounted for
Out of over forty survivors, seven had fallen during the first full night of the Reclamation Event.
It was a cost.
Not a twist. Not a shock.
Just the weight of living.
Later that night, as the survivors sat eating what little food they had left, Conner stood alone at the edge of the courtyard, bow slung across his back, new arrows stacked in a scavenged quiver.
Katie approached, quiet. She didn't say anything for a while.
"People died today," she said finally.
"Yeah."
"But more didn't."
He didn't answer.
She looked at him. Really looked.
"You feel responsible?"
Conner shook his head. "No."
Pause.
"But I feel it."
Joey joined them, shirtless again, one arm in a makeshift sling.
"Gotta say," he said, "being a magnet wizard? Kinda rules."
Katie rolled her eyes.
Neive arrived soon after, her latest summon curled around her shoulders like a sleeping cat made of vines and smoke.
They stood together—tired, battered, but still standing.
And around them, the other survivors started rebuilding the barricades.
This wasn't the end of the Reclamation.
But it was the moment they realized…
They weren't alone.