Draziel's enhanced Physique kept him alive through it all, his cellular structure robust enough to withstand the invasion without completely breaking down. But survival and comfort were two very different things.
He lost track of ti. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. His voice went hoarse from screaming, then gave out entirely. Blood vessels burst in his eyes, turning them bloodshot. He vomited blood, his digestive system temporarily failing as the Nano Cells restructured it.
Through it all, his analytical mind—that cold, detached part of him that never stopped working—catalogued every sensation, every change. He could feel his genetic limits being rewritten, his cellular capacity expanding beyond what should be possible.
His attributes, which had been capped at fifteen, were rising. The System registered the changes, updating his statistics in real-ti.
[Strength Limit: 15 → 30]
[Agility Limit: 15 → 30]
[Physique Limit: 15 → 30]
But more than that, his actual Physique was being forcibly raised to et the new limit. The Nano Cells were optimizing every aspect of his physical form, pushing his body to the peak of what it could now achieve.
[Physique: 15 → 20 → 25 → 30]
Thirty minutes passed. Then forty. Gradually, incredibly, the pain began to recede. Not because he was getting used to it, but because the integration process was nearing completion. The last few Nano Cells found their assigned positions within his cellular structure, and the assault on his nervous system finally ended.
Draziel collapsed fully, lying in a pool of blood, sweat, and other fluids his body had expelled during the ordeal. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling with exhaustion. But he was alive.
More than alive. He could feel the difference imdiately. Every breath brought more oxygen to his cells than before. His heart beat with chanical precision, pumping blood more efficiently than should be possible. His muscles, despite the ordeal they'd just endured, felt stronger than ever.
He forced himself to sit up, and even that simple movent revealed the changes. His body responded with a precision and power that was imdiately noticeable. He clenched his fist experintally and heard the air itself pop from the pressure.
His bionic lens flickered, updating his information.
[Na: Draziel]
[Status: Evolver - 100% Complete]
[Attributes Available for Enhancent: 45 Evolution Points]
[Strength: 15 → (Limit: 30)]
[Agility: 15 → (Limit: 30)]
[Physique: 30 (Limit: 30)]
His Physique had maxed out imdiately due to the forced enhancent from the Nano Cells. But his Strength and Agility remained at fifteen, waiting for him to allocate evolution points to raise them.
Without hesitation, Draziel began spending his accumulated points. He'd gained significant evolution points from killing all the rcenaries, and now he poured them into his remaining attributes.
[Strength: 15 → 20]
[Agility: 15 → 20]
The sensation of rapid attribute growth was familiar by now, but combined with his new Nano Cell-enhanced body, it felt different. Stronger. More profound. His muscles didn't just grow—they restructured themselves to be more efficient.
When the changes settled, Draziel stood. The movent was effortless, graceful in a way his movents had never been before. He felt like he'd been given a new body, one that operated at a level beyond anything he'd previously imagined.
He tested his new strength by punching the nearby examination table. His fist impacted with a sound like a gunshot, and the solid steel table crumpled like aluminum foil, flying backward to crash into the wall hard enough to leave a dent.
"Impressive," he murmured to himself.
He spent the next few minutes exploring the laboratory, searching for anything else of value. He found several vials of concentrated evolution serum, a few advanced weapons, and detailed research notes on the Nano Cell project. All of it went into the tactical bag he'd taken from one of the dead rcenaries.
Finally, satisfied that he'd gathered everything useful, Draziel made his way back to the elevator shaft. The climb up was almost trivial now with his enhanced strength, his fingers finding purchase in the smallest imperfections in the concrete walls.
When he erged on the ground floor, he found the bodies of the rcenaries exactly where he'd left them. But sothing was different. The corpses were starting to twitch, their fingers spasming as the virus that created zombies began its work.
Draziel had deliberately not destroyed their brains, allowing them to reanimate. He wanted to test his new abilities, and fresh zombies would serve perfectly as test subjects.
He didn't have to wait long. Within minutes, the bodies began to rise, their movents jerky and uncoordinated at first. Their skin had taken on the characteristic gray pallor of the infected, and their eyes, when they opened, were milky white.
There were six of them in total, and they turned toward Draziel with the singular focus that defined the undead. A normal person would have been terrified, facing six enhanced zombies—forr rcenaries who retained so of their previous physical capabilities even in death.
Draziel simply watched them approach, his expression calm and analytical.
When the first zombie reached him, lunging with hands outstretched to grab and teeth bared to bite, Draziel moved. His hand shot out faster than the eye could follow, gripping the zombie's head. With a casual squeeze, the skull crumpled like an eggshell, and the zombie dropped lifeless.
"Strength is significantly enhanced," he noted to himself. "Fine motor control is excellent despite the power increase. Nano Cell integration appears fully successful."
The remaining zombies attacked as a group, but they might as well have been moving in slow motion. Draziel's enhanced Agility made their movents seem sluggish and predictable. He weaved between them effortlessly, his fist snapping out to cave in a chest here, his elbow crushing a skull there.
Within seconds, all six zombies were destroyed, their bodies scattered across the ground floor.
Draziel examined his hands, flexing his fingers experintally. There wasn't even a scratch on him. The enhancent from the Nano Cells was beyond what he'd hoped for.
He gathered the weapons and supplies he wanted from the dead rcenaries, selecting two machetes that were roughly sword-length. They were quality weapons, well-balanced and sharp. He also took several magazines of ammunition, grenades, and a tactical vest that actually fit his fra.
From one of the offices, he retrieved a bottle of expensive vodka—apparently the executives had good taste—and allowed himself a single drink. The alcohol burned going down, a reminder that he could still feel simple pleasures even after everything he'd been through.
Finally equipped and prepared, Draziel made his way toward the exit of ga-Tech. But as he approached the door, he heard voices. He paused, listening.
"—are you sure he went in there?"
"I saw him. He killed those zombies like they were nothing."
"Maybe he can help us get out of the city."
Draziel's eyes narrowed slightly. Survivors. He opened the door to find a small group standing in the street—a family, from the look of it. A man in his early forties, a woman around the sa age, and a teenage girl, probably seventeen.
They saw him and imdiately tensed, but the father stepped forward, trying to appear non-threatening. "Please, we don't want any trouble. We saw you fighting, and we thought… we hoped you might be heading out of the city."
"And if I am?" Draziel asked, his voice carrying that characteristic soft quality that sohow made it more unsettling rather than less.
"tro City," the father said quickly. "We heard on the radio that it's been turned into a survivor stronghold. If we can get there, we'll be safe. But the roads are overrun with zombies, and the people we were traveling with…" He trailed off, pain evident in his expression. "They didn't make it."
Draziel studied them for a long mont. The mother was clutching her daughter protectively. The girl herself looked terrified but was trying to be brave. The father had a combat knife at his belt—military issue, from the look of it—suggesting he had at least so training.
"tro City," Draziel repeated thoughtfully. It was the sa city where his daughter was, or at least where she'd been before everything went to hell. It made sense as a destination. "Fine. You can follow . But keep up. I won't slow down for you, and I won't co back if you fall behind."
The relief on their faces was palpable. "Thank you," the father said earnestly. "I'm Marcus, this is my wife Sarah, and our daughter Emily."
Draziel didn't offer his own na. Instead, he simply started walking, heading toward the outskirts of the city and the road that would lead to tro City.
The family fell in behind him, struggling to match his pace even though he was barely putting effort into his stride. His enhanced Agility made even a casual walk faster than a normal person's jog.
As they traveled, Marcus tried to make conversation. "You're military trained, aren't you? I can tell from the way you move."
"Was," Draziel replied curtly.
" too. Army, ten years. Got out right before everything went to hell." Marcus laughed bitterly. "Lot of good that training did . Barely survived the first week."
They encountered zombies periodically as they moved through the city streets. Draziel dispatched them with chanical efficiency, often not even breaking stride. A knife thrown with perfect accuracy, a zombie dead. A casual backhand that caved in a skull. A kick that sent an infected flying into a wall hard enough to pulverize its spine.
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