Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 237 - Orders from Above

The old commander sat in silence inside his steel-clad office, tucked into the far end of the school’s administrative building. The humming of distant drones filled the silence like static. His fingers hovered over the message icon on his communicator, the name Shinju blinking insistently.

Again.

He exhaled through his nose and flicked the screen off. He didn’t need to read it. He knew what Shinju wanted—what he always wanted. Something about his "son," about Jai. The boy Shinju had left behind.

The commander clenched his jaw. He had saved them once—back in City A. Gone against protocol to do it. He’d even diverted resources to bring survivors here. He didn’t regret it, not really. He’d seen what was left of City A. Hell on earth. The infected there had changed—become something else. Smarter. Faster. Crueler.

And now? Now those survivors weren’t survivors at all. They were "unreleaseable assets." Too risky to reintroduce into society, but too valuable to destroy. So they were kept here—isolated, fed, observed like lab rats in a cage.

He rubbed a hand down his face, feeling every year in his bones.

His communicator buzzed again, but this time, it was a different signal.

Unknown ID. Military encryption.

He stiffened, instantly straightening, and tapped to answer. The screen glowed with a crest—higher command. He stood and saluted automatically.

"Sir."

The voice on the other end was clipped, direct. "Commander Song. We’ve just received a flagged blood sample from your camp."

His brow furrowed. "A blood sample, sir?"

"Yes. Collected during routine medical surveillance. The subject was previously undocumented. Designation: Yunfeng."

The name struck like a bullet to his gut.

"The subject must be caught without any harm to his body. He’s a potential key to controlling or reversing the next stage of infection."

Commander Song remained silent, the weight of the words crashing down like thunder. Yunfeng. The quiet one. The boy with the haunted eyes. He’d looked just like any other survivor. Just a name in a manifest.

"You are to detain the subject and prepare him for extraction. Authorization level: Omega-Red."

His breath caught. Omega-Red was not for rescues. It was for permanent containment.

"I... Understood, sir," he said quietly.

The call ended.

*******

Inside the cramped dorm room, everyone was already packed and ready to leave. Their bags were stuffed full, clothes and supplies hastily thrown together. It was crowded—bodies pressed close, knees bumping against old furniture, tension heavy in the air. They had managed to find a few more makeshift weapons: pieces of broken bed frames, pipes yanked out from under sinks, even sharpened chair legs.

Since Muchen had firmly said no one could use their powers, they had no choice but to rely on whatever they could find.

"Okay... we’re ready," Yunfeng said quietly, eyes settling on Jai.

"You ready?"

Jai nodded slowly, stepped forward, and dropped to one knee. He placed his hand on the ground, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

He focused.

He called for the earth. He waited for something—anything—to respond.

He tried again.

And again.

Still, the ground stayed still beneath his fingers.

Not even a tremble.

Finally, Jai let out a shaky breath and stood up, patting his hand against his pants as if trying to wipe off the shame. His voice was low.

"I... I tried..."

He didn’t look up. His chest felt tight, and a quiet frustration rose in his throat. He didn’t know if it was anger or disappointment—or both.

But still, he glanced up, just for a moment.

He looked for Shao.

Only to see him whispering something quietly to Qiu Yue, face unreadable, completely focused on the conversation.

Jai’s stomach dropped. Something twisted inside him.

He turned away quickly.

"I’m sorry... we have to make do without my powers," he said, almost under his breath.

No one said anything for a second.

Then someone nodded.

"It’s okay," came a soft voice.

And just like that, they moved forward with the plan.

But Jai’s silence was heavier than ever.

The group moved quietly, slipping through the long shadowed hallways of the school-turned-rescue camp. Every creak of the floorboards and every rustle of clothing sounded thunderously loud in the tense silence. Their makeshift weapons were gripped tightly in their hands—knuckles white, breaths shallow.

Jai walked a little behind the others, eyes darting toward Shao every few steps, but Shao never turned around. He kept close to Qiu Yue, muttering things under his breath only the doctor could hear. Jai didn’t know what they were saying—and that only made the quiet in his chest louder.

They reached a back exit near the gymnasium, where the emergency lights flickered weakly on and off. Yunfeng raised his hand to signal everyone to stop. They pressed themselves flat against the wall as he slowly peeked around the corner.

It looked clear.

He gave a nod.

But the second they moved, a low growl echoed from behind the lockers.

A heavy thud followed.

Something big stirred.

From the shadows stumbled a man—no, not a man anymore. His skin was greyed, flaking like ash. His arms were massive, muscle swollen to grotesque proportions. Dried blood was crusted over his torn uniform. One side of his neck was gashed wide open, black veins bulging underneath.

Muchen froze. The creature locked eyes with him.

In a split second, it lunged.

"Muchen!" Yunfeng roared.

The soldier’s massive hand reached out, sharp nails inches from Muchen’s face—but flames exploded in a brilliant burst from Yunfeng’s palm. His fire, blue as the heart of a furnace, engulfed the infected man mid-air. The stench of scorched flesh filled the hall as the zombie wailed and thrashed, its body crumbling under the intense heat.

Muchen stumbled back, staring at the dying creature, then at Yunfeng—his eyes burning, not with fear, but with anger.

"I told you not to use your powers!" he snapped.

Yunfeng only shrugged, his fire still licking around his knuckles.

"No one’s watching," he said simply, shaking out the flames until they flickered and disappeared.

But someone was watching.

Far from the campus, tucked in the treeline behind reinforced barricades, the old commander stood silently. A telescope was fixed in his hands, his face shadowed by the rim of his hat.

He had seen everything.

The flare of blue fire.

The boy who wielded it like it was an extension of himself.

The same boy he had been ordered to capture.

The same boy who once escaped.

A long sigh left his lips.

His eyes hardened.

He turned to his assistant.

"Prepare the containment unit," he said grimly. "We’re bringing the boy in. This time, we do not fail."

The order was given.

And the hunt had begun.