Suppression Dagger

POV AMARA

“Saving the life of the monster everyone fears isn’t mercy. It’s the smartest tactical move I can make so I don’t end up as zombie dinner.”

The infected creature pulls half its body through the crumpled metal of the roof. Its jaw hangs at a sickening angle, drooling black bile that reeks of rotting flesh and rust. Its bony fingers stretch toward my neck, mere millimeters away from brushing my skin. I don’t scream. Panic is a luxury for those who still have time to pray.

The blue dot floating before my right eye adjusts instantly. A red reticle locks in right behind the creature’s ear, exactly where it meets the nape of its neck. The system marks its core like a bullseye on a target range.

“Stay still, you hideous thing,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

I grip the cold hilt of the ion dagger, push off with my legs against the twisted seat back, and drive the blade upward using all my body weight. The edge sinks in like it’s cutting through warm butter. There’s no bone resistance, no struggle. The dagger’s energy gives off a low hum, and a burst of blue heat cooks the infected’s brain from the inside. The creature jerks in a violent spasm, its milky eyes burst in a grayish fluid, and it goes completely limp, flopping face down onto the blood-soaked carpet of the vehicle.

[Phase 1 Infected, Runner, eliminated]

[Reward: 10 Warfare Dominance Points]

[Critical Alert: Subject ‘Nikolai Lanston’s’ core will collapse in 15 seconds]

“Damn it!” I curse, wiping my face with the sleeve of what’s left of this pitiful dress.

I drop to my knees. Nikolai is arched against the car floor, his back curved under inhuman tension. The skin on his arms is turning so dark it looks like solid obsidian, covered in plates of hardened tissue tearing through his military uniform. His teeth grind together as he bites his lip, and the blood trickling down his chin is dark, almost black.

His eyes are two red pools filled with pure madness. There isn’t a single shred of human reason left in them. If that energy finishes taking over his brain, he won’t recognize me as a substitute bride or even a living thing. He’ll rip my head off with one single swipe.

“Nikolai, listen to me closely if you still have a single working brain cell,” I tell him, crawling toward him through broken glass. “I am not dying in here because of your biological tantrum.”

He snarls like a wild animal, and his free arm, charged with that monstrous strength, lashes out in a swipe aimed straight at my chest. The air slices through with force. My body moves on instinct. I twist my torso to the left, feeling the wind of the blow brush my cheek. The wood and leather of the seat behind me shatters like it was hit by a five-ton sledgehammer.

The red dot on his chest glows urgently in my field of vision. Exactly three centimeters above his sternum.

“Hold onto the floor!” I roar at him.

I take advantage of his arm being stuck in the wrecked seat, lunge over his torso, and straddle his waist. Nikolai roars in fury, lifting his other chained hand to crush my skull, but I don’t hesitate for even a millisecond. I flip my grip on the ion dagger and drive it straight into the spot marked by the system.

The blade pierces through his uniform and sinks deep into his flesh. Nikolai goes rigid as if someone just pumped ten thousand volts of electricity through him. His whole body convulses beneath me, muscles hard as granite boulders. A flash of bright blue light ripples outward from the dagger’s hilt, tracing the black veins up his neck and across his chest, fighting back the virus’s corruption.

He digs his fingers into the metal floor, holding back a scream of pure agony that tears at his vocal cords. For one terrifying moment, I think I’ve killed him.

But then, the toxic glow beneath his skin begins to fade. The dark plates covering his arms slowly recede back under his skin, and the color of his veins shifts from rotting black to a faint, steady blue. The brutal tension in his body releases all at once, like a building collapsing onto its foundations. The breath he lets out sounds entirely human, exhausted but human.

[Overload Purification Successful]

[Bloodline Bond Established: Host Amara Wilson + Commander Nikolai Lanston]

[Synergy Bonus Unlocked: ‘Shared Fury’ (Combat Speed +50%, Tactical Perception Sharing)]

I let out a shaky breath, feeling my hands tremble from the rush of adrenaline. I’m still straddling him, the dagger still buried in his chest, my wedding dress stained all the way to the neck with a mixture of the infected’s black ichor and his own red blood.

Nikolai blinks. The crimson haze in his pupils clears away, revealing sharp, dark eyes, intense and burning like glowing coal. He looks down at my hand, then at the dagger sticking out of his chest, and finally locks his gaze onto mine. There’s no gratitude on his face, only a distrust so thick you could cut it with a knife, mixed with utter bewilderment.

“What… in the hell… did you do to me?” he asks, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“Saving your skin, you fool,” I answer, not moving from where I sit, keeping a firm hold on the weapon’s pommel. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Nikolai lets out a short, rough laugh that makes him cough up a trickle of blood.

“The Wilsons said you were useless trash. A skittish little bastard who’d wet herself just seeing a weapon.”

“The Wilsons are idiots who thought they were throwing me to the lions.” I pull the dagger free in one sharp, clean motion. Nikolai chokes back a groan, but the wound doesn’t bleed. The blade’s plasma cauterized the flesh instantly. “They’re going to get a very unpleasant surprise when they find out I wasn’t eaten alive.”

Nikolai pushes himself up slowly, leaning his back against the crumpled car door. He runs a hand over his neck, feeling his veins. He clenches his right fist. I catch a glimpse of a faint layer of dark metal coating his knuckles for a second before fading, responding perfectly to his will, without that searing pain he had before.

He looks me up and down, pausing at the tear in my dress exposing my legs and the fresh blood smudged on my face.

“That weapon isn’t standard Federation military issue. And what you did to my infection… not even the top scientists in the central bunker could stop genetic collapse. Who the hell are you?”

“Your wife,” I say with a cool smile as I stand up and brush dust off my clothes. “And the only reason you’re still breathing. If you want to stay alive, Commander, I suggest you save the questions for later.”

I kick the dented car door with my boot. The metal groans but gives way a few inches, revealing the outside world. The smell of burnt powder, scorched rubber, and rotting flesh floods in all at once. The avenue looks like an open-air graveyard. Hundreds of infected are running in circles, tearing apart civilian bodies, and the three that were on the roof have just heard the noise.

Three pairs of milky white eyes peer through the crack in the twisted metal, baring rotten fangs as they shriek with hunger.

Nikolai doesn’t hesitate. He stands in one fluid motion, filling the cramped space with his imposing size. He wraps both hands around the alloy chain still linking his wrists, pulls with tremendous strength, and the heavy steel snaps like sewing thread.

“I hate taking orders,” he growls, stepping right beside me, his eyes darkening again, this time with pure battle hunger. “But I’ll admit, you’ve got guts, woman.”

I take a fighting stance, gripping the dagger in my right hand while the system projects three red reticles over the heads of the creatures closing in on us.

“Don’t get used to being rescued, Lanston.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he grunts, stepping toward the opening. “Watch my back. First one’s head is mine.”

“They thought they’d left us here to be torn apart, but the real hunt has only just begun.”