LOGINPercy tore at Diana's clothes, ignoring the way the room had sunk below -60°C.Diana had no strength left to resist. She lay there, eyes vacant, her body trembling from cold and horror.When Percy yanked down his pants, reality struck with brutal clarity. Nothing happened. In this temperature, with his blood drained and his body failing, he had no life left in him to act on his rage."Get up! Come on, get up!" he shouted, slapping himself there.He pinched and shook himself, trying everything he could think of, but nothing worked. That part of him was dead, numb, frozen like the rest of him.Diana saw his humiliation and let out a faint, bitter laugh. "You really are useless."Percy's desperate, broken roar tore through the room. It was the pitiful sound of a castrated animal. He slumped to the floor, trembling, caught between pain, rage, and despair.…After a sleepless night, Zoey finally replied to Cyrus' message. Her answer was short but firm. She would do it.Zoey knew th
The men glanced at one another and decided not to take the risk.Percy hacked at Cyrus' door for a while and cursed with each swing. Exhaustion hit him. He slumped against the steel door, tears streaming down his face as he begged for mercy.Cyrus' cold voice drifted through the door. "You're finished. That wound of yours is rotten through. It looks late stage. There's no saving it. You might as well do whatever you never had the guts to do while you're still alive."The words made Percy's blood run cold. Despair pulled at him.Was he really going to die?Fear rose inside him like a deep pit that opened under his feet and dragged him down. A wild, desperate rage followed close behind. If death waited for him anyway, he had nothing left to fear.He forced himself upright and kicked Cyrus' door. The impact nearly knocked him out. The door stayed solid.Panting and pale, he backed away and climbed the stairs to his apartment.Inside, the air carried the heavy stink of decay.Andr
Cyrus would take Zoey in, but she had to hand over proof of loyalty first. His terms were simple: be useful, be no threat, and most importantly, do not act like a saint.He believed she could handle the first two. He needed to know if she could handle the third. Thus, he gave her a test.Zoey did not reply right away. She paused, weighing her options.Cyrus did not rush her. Time worked in his favor. If she failed, he would drop her without hesitation. He stayed healthy and rarely caught anything serious, so he saw no reason to put himself at risk. How long she would last remained a mystery.The next morning…Cyrus slept until ten. He slid out from under the velvet covers and cleaned up.He put on workout clothes and started running on the treadmill. In the Frostfall, physical strength mattered more than ever. Only with solid fitness could you handle danger and keep illness away.He ran for an hour and worked up a steady sweat. Then he took a hot shower. Pride washed through him
Jack ended up the prey more than the hunter. Being marked by Cyrus put a constant tremor under his skin. He slept with a gun in his hand and trusted no one, not even the men who ate from the same pot.Before long, his nerves began to unravel. After thinking hard, he figured out what he needed to do next.Cyrus watched everything on camera. Over the last few days people had moved into Jack's flat. They were young, strong, and mostly single. Some came willingly. Others arrived at gunpoint. Jack's crew swelled to ten men, giving him more muscle than before.Cyrus understood the logic. Jack felt terrified, so he gathered followers to shield himself from the bounty on his head.The move made sense, though it came from a small mind. It would only delay the end.Forty people had died around the building. Only about 70 residents remained. Most households had exhausted their stores. The next ration would be people. That truth hung in the stairwell like a heavy, ugly weight.Recruiting fig
Cyrus' flaunting drove the whole building mad. Even his trash scraps looked like gourmet food to them. The sight made them ache with envy.Andrew's apartment lay in ruins. Their raid had failed, and the antibiotics they needed were gone.Two days later the consequences hit. The three wounded men felt their injuries burn with a fierce, crawling itch. Their bandages darkened with a strange yellow seep.Andrew lost control and tore off the gauze. The wound had turned rotten. Thick, foul clumps of pus oozed out. The stench rose like rot and spoiled meat."No, no, no. Not like this. I'm not ready to die," Andrew sobbed as tears and snot ran together.Percy and Gideon stared in horror. They pulled back their own dressings and prayed the infection had spared them. Hope collapsed at once.Rusted bolts had driven deep into muscle. Infection had taken hold, and the lack of antibiotics or food sealed their fate. The pain pushed them close to madness. Their screams tore through the room.Di
Cyrus decided to livestream his meal in the group. He recorded himself eating and sent the video to them."Hello, residents," he said in the chat. "Tonight, I am making sirloin steak."He dropped a slab of belly at least two pounds onto the cutting board. The neighbors in the group went red-eyed.[Two pounds of sirloin? Don't waste it. Give it to me, give it to me!][Cyrus, you are not a human. You're a monster. You don't deserve that steak!][I haven't tasted real meat in a week. Please let me have a strip!][Just let me smell the fat. Please, Cyrus!]Hunger had stripped the neighbors of all dignity. They watched every move Cyrus made, and their imaginations supplied the smell as if it drifted through the screen.Cyrus moved with steady confidence, flipped the steak, basted it, and let the butter foam.Then he frowned. He cut off a small piece, tasted it, and spat it straight into the trash. "Too much salt. Damn it, this cut's ruined."He had cooked plenty of heavy meals bef







