Chapter 631: Chapter 631: Persistence (Part 1)

Redstar’s gaze moved slowly, taking in the field, the stands, the broken edges of what used to be structure.

Her brow pulled in slightly.

"If they sent S-Class immediately..." she muttered, voice low, the accent thick, "this would not happen." 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Her lips pressed together.

"Hmph."

She scoffed softly, the sound carrying no weight beyond the moment.

"Damned capitalists," she added under her breath, eyes narrowing faintly. "Always calculating... always waiting. Maybe there is profit in this, da... they wait, let damage grow."

Her head tilted just slightly as she continued to look.

No anger held.

No pride either.

Just observation.

A brief flicker of something closer to pity passed through her expression—and left just as quickly.

She exhaled.

Then rose.

Her body lifted higher without effort, drifting upward past the height of the stadium lights, past the surrounding buildings, climbing steadily into thinner air.

The wind picked up slightly as she ascended, brushing against her skin, tugging faintly at her hair and the towel around her neck.

The campus shrank beneath her.

Shapes became patterns.

Movement—what little remained—became easier to isolate.

She continued upward.

Clouds approached slowly, their lower edges stretching across the sky like a thin barrier waiting to be crossed.

Then—

She stopped.

Mid-ascent.

Her body stilled without drift.

Her head turned slightly to the side.

Something moved.

Far out—still distant—but closing.

Her eyes focused.

Jets.

Multiple.

Formation tight, speed high.

The faint roar reached her a second later—low at first, then building as it carried through the air.

"Mm."

She studied them briefly, gaze narrowing as she tracked their approach path, their altitude, their spacing.

"Four minutes," she said quietly. "Maybe less."

Her tone remained even.

No urgency.

No concern.

Her attention shifted.

Away from the incoming aircrafts.

Toward the city.

From this height, it all opened.

The scale.

The spread.

Her senses extended without restriction now.

She heard it first.

Not clearly—too many layers—but enough.

Screams.

Different pitches. Different distances. Some cut short. Others drawn out. Voices calling names. Others just noise, breaking apart under fear.

Children.

That much stood out without effort.

Her jaw tightened just slightly.

Her eyes followed.

She saw movement across multiple districts—streets broken, vehicles abandoned, people running in uneven lines.

Some fought back. Most didn’t last long enough to matter.

Infected moved through them.

But not all the same.

Her gaze narrowed further.

"There..."

She shifted focus from one group to another.

Then another.

Then another.

Hordes.

Not one.

Several.

Scattered.

Moving in patterns that didn’t align.

Some tore through anything in front of them—humans, structures, even infected.

Others... ignored certain targets.

Adjusted.

Redirected.

Her eyes sharpened.

"Not same..." she murmured. "Not behaving the same."

Her head tilted slightly as she watched one cluster break formation to collide with another—violence immediate, no hesitation, no coordination between them.

"They fight each other..." she said, quieter now.

A pause.

"Why..."

Her gaze continued to move, scanning, comparing, isolating.

Something wasn’t consistent.

Something underneath the movement differed.

Her expression shifted—subtle, but present.

Then—

It stopped.

Her eyes locked.

Far across the city.

A single structure.

Ebon Crest Tower.

Its height made it stand out even from here, its edges catching what little light broke through the haze above the city.

Her focus tightened.

Something was happening there.

At the roof.

Her eyes narrowed further.

Then widened.

She saw him.

Don.

Just over the edge.

Body angled forward, weight balanced at a point where one wrong shift would send him down.

And below—

Closer to the side of the structure—

The female infected.

Her form hung against the surface, limbs positioned in a way that defied normal movement, fingers embedded into the wall for grip.

Her hair spread outward, lifted slightly by the wind at that height, framing a face that didn’t look away.

Her gaze was fixed on him.

Unmoving.

Unblinking.

And his—

Locked right back.

Redstar didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Her eyes remained fixed on that single point across the city.

The rest of the noise—

The screams.

The destruction.

The incoming jets—

All of it fell away from her focus.

For the moment—

Only that mattered.

———

Don felt the edge leave his boots as the destruction he caused made it collapse.

There was no surface under him anymore—only open air and the long drop waiting below.

For a fraction of a second, his body stayed aligned with the roofline, momentum carrying him forward even as gravity took hold.

His eyes never left the female infected. Her figure tipped over with him, her grip on the structure gone as both of them slipped past the edge.

Wind rushed up immediately.

It hit hard—dragging at his attire, pulling at his limbs, forcing his descent faster with every passing second.

The city stretched beneath them in a blur of broken streets and scattered movement, but Don didn’t look down.

His focus stayed locked.

He had one move.

Telekinesis.

He reached inward and pushed—aiming to catch himself, to redirect his fall back toward the roof.

But—

Her hair.

It was already too close.

Even in that instant, he saw it.

Movement.

Subtle at first—thin strands shifting against the wind in ways that didn’t match the fall. Then more followed, the mass beginning to spread outward like something alive waking up.

’Too close.’

His jaw tightened.

He dropped the attempt immediately.

Instead, his focus snapped outward—

Toward her.

His will pressed against the strands, forcing them back, driving the mass away from his position.

The air between them warped faintly under the pressure as invisible force clashed against the unnatural movement of her hair.

It resisted.

Not fully.

But enough.

The strands jerked, slowed, forced back halfway—only to surge again, pushing against his control as if something beneath them refused to yield.

They were fighting over it.

Mid-fall.

The distance between them barely held.

Wind roared louder as they dropped faster, the pressure building against his face, dragging at his eyes, forcing them to narrow just to keep focus.

Above—

Sound.

Movement.

Don heard it even through the rush of air.

The horde inside the tower.

Closer now.

Too close.

His jaw clenched harder.

"The infected are getting closer to the roof!" he shouted, voice cutting through the air as best it could. "You have to leave now!!"

The words tore out of him, thrown upward toward the edge they had just fallen from. Whether they heard him or not didn’t matter anymore.

He already knew—

He wasn’t getting back up there.

Not like this.

His focus snapped back.

The ground was approaching.

Fast.