The Storm

At last, in a daze of memories and thoughts, Raymond woke up. The last semblance of consciousness he could remember was the fight with that beast, their triumph over it, and the moment he… ate human flesh for the first time. The disorientation he experienced was beyond description.

A strong wave of dizziness overcame him as he attempted to stand. As he tried to get up, he tripped as the surroundings, which he had not previously cared to inspect, became more hazy.

"He's up! Raymond is up, Calvin! From someplace in the room came a voice that sounded odd.

He was somewhat relieved to hear a human voice calling Calvin, but the perplexity that was eating away at his thoughts persisted. He had trouble figuring out where he was. He started to see the furniture around him, even through the haze: a table, a pair of chairs, a few drawers, the bed from which he had just fallen, and a door that was wide open. Calvin suddenly materialized, watching him sprawled on the floor from just outside the doorway.

"Raymond," Calvin remarked in his enragedly composed tone, "you should not push yourself so hard." "Over the past week, you have undoubtedly suffered significant harm, even as an HHD test subject."

"Calvin... he... he." Fragments of coherent sentences escaped Raymond's grasp as he murmured.

"Slow down. Allow me to assist you in returning to your bed. Calvin helped him by holding him up by the shoulder. Calvin carefully placed him back on the bed after he had straightened up.

"Tell me what went wrong." At last, Raymond was able to inquire.

Calvin remarked, "Well, that's a long story," before shutting the door and taking a seat in one of the chairs. I think you've been unconscious for a week or so, but it could be longer. As soon as you killed Tanker, almost all of the zombies disappeared.

"Tanker?"

"That's what I've called it to help the other survivors understand the story better."

Raymond's memory gradually returned to the events of that gloomy night, along with the memory of Calvin shooting one of them right before he passed out.

"You..." Raymond strained to sit up on the bed and snarled, his voice threatening. But even that small action threw his head into a whirl again.

Calvin's voice darkened as he remarked, "I see you've finally remembered." "I wanted to know when you would realize."

"What made you do it? You shot him, but why?

"Calm down, calm down. I have always worked to keep the peace and order. You ought to keep in mind his mental condition.

Raymond mentally relived the scene: the terrified man's reaction to eating the crimson slime, right before Calvin shot him.

Calvin remarked icily, "The panic he was feeling at the time would have threatened our future civilization."

"I... I... consumed human flesh." Raymond stared at his hands in despair and mumbled to himself.

It must be a consequence of your zombie transformation. You see, we've been examining your recent alterations with a small medical team I put together among the survivors. It appears that the zombie virus somehow combines with the HHD chemical once it gets into your bloodstream. Your body undergoes substantial alterations as a result of this combo.

"So what? I... I am not superior to them.

"Avoid saying that. You simply have a new perspective on the world. Anyway, enough about that. Let me tell you about some of the things that have changed in your life—not that it matters to you.

Fearing that he may suffer worse if he ignored any information about his new illness, Raymond urged, "I want to know everything."

"Okay, are you prepared?" In an apparent attempt to lift his spirits, Calvin inquired. Even if his attempt failed, he persisted. You created that blade on your arm because, as we've seen, the zombie form somehow quickens the HHD's increase of your evolutionary pace. We think that when it originally appeared, you had a strong mental resolve, and it has since been an enduring aspect of your change.

Raymond remembered how he had frantically flung his arms through the zombie swarm that had initially encircled him.

"But hold on, that theory isn't quite clear," Raymond remarked. "Why does it shrink back to normal when I end that... zombie if I'm evolving?"

"Zombie form," Calvin proudly interrupted. I also came up with another phrase to make the matter easier to explain. To respond to your inquiry, imagine the following situation: your body senses danger and develops a blade. What is it composed of, though?

"I'm not sure... It's not quite a frequent event.

"Well, your bones are where it grows. Your nutrition intake and production are significantly increased by the virus and your HHD, which enables your bones to develop to the point where they can form a blade. The following query is, "What do you believe occurs when your body stops this peculiar chemical process that makes the blade possible?"

"The blade would deteriorate."

"Exactly. The last "evolutionary" stage is to retract the blade since, as you transform back into human form, the bones become more brittle and the blade could shatter at any time.

Raymond thought this reasoning was strange. It felt like the only logical answer at the time, yet nothing made sense. He ceased to doubt Calvin's responses and took them at face value.

"I understand." Raymond uttered those words, his thoughts oddly vacant.

Calvin remarked, "I know it may not make sense, but it's the only explanation we have." "But take a look at what we've produced—it's not just information."

Calvin extracted two tiny, sealed test vials from his pocket. The first was purple, the second more crimson.

"W-what are those?" With a chill of fear in his voice, Raymond inquired.

Calvin clarified, "This purple one is zombie blood." "Unlike the original zombies, we were able to recover it from the bodies of zombies that did not disappear. We have been able to better examine your transformation thanks to this sample, and now that our analysis is over, it may also be used to initiate your modification. Just exercise caution—too much of it may be harmful. It appears that if you ingest too much of the virus, it could overwhelm the HHD.

"And which one is the red one?" When Raymond asked, Calvin's expression instantly darkened.

As though the mystery of the substance still captivated him, Calvin examined the tube from every side and declared, "This, Raymond, is a sample I kept for myself." "It appears to initiate additional evolutionary processes—or at the very least, improve your physical capabilities—when combined with the zombie form of HHD."

Raymond was momentarily stunned when a terrifying thought crossed his head. All he could do was glance at Calvin, who gave him a pitying look.

"Is that...?"

"Yes," Calvin said. It's a sample taken from a deceased individual, namely the one I shot. Nevertheless, I was able to create a sizable amount of this using the nearby bodies.

"How could you?" Raymond yelled, but his air failed him and he was interrupted by a coughing spasm.

"As I mentioned, think about your condition before—"

"Ignore that! Are you saying that you want me to utilize those, and that you even experimented with our dead friends' bodies? What sort of person are you?

Calvin stared at him with a mournful, icy look that Raymond would not accept.

"I've poisoned humans with my experiments until they passed away. I have purposelessly moved my one and only victory from one battlefield to another. You don't realize what kind of person I am, even after I shot a man at close range? I'll go to any lengths to create a better society.

"How could you?"

More significantly, Calvin added, "you were taken to this facility not long ago. I think you didn't give a damn about the people around you before you came here, just cruising through life, slipping farther and farther down the ladder of your meaningless life. All of a sudden, you say that you care about those around you. Soldier, you are a hypocrite, aren't you?

Raymond couldn't recall precisely why he stopped talking after saying this. It might have been pride, anger, or, more likely, the deep-seated knowledge that Calvin was telling the truth.

In any case, there isn't much more I can tell you at this time, Calvin replied as he stood up and put the test tubes back in his pocket. I think you'll be back on track after eight hours of sleep. You should just consult me and keep your lips shut on anything that can start a commotion if you really want to save the lives that are still living. Soldier, are I clear?

Although Raymond's frail physique couldn't handle much more, Calvin's arrogant tone was intolerable. He watched Calvin go in silence before collapsing back onto the bed. He fell back to sleep slowly.