Zombie Domination

Kevin felt a sudden rush of purpose, as though the weight of the room had shifted onto his shoulders, but in a way that lit a fire in his chest rather than crushed him. His eyes gleamed with determination, and he straightened his back.

"Alright," he said, voice steady but charged with energy. "I'll be the one to break through that shield for all of you."

Glain, whose weathered eyes carried the wisdom of years, fixed his gaze on Kevin. There was no smile, only a solemn acknowledgment of trust.

"Very well, Kevin," he said in a deep, steady tone. "You'll be assigned to that role."

He turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping across the long table and the faces gathered there. Some looked resolved, others uneasy. The faint hum of machinery in the room filled the silence between breaths.

Then Glain spoke again, calm, authoritative, each word carrying the weight of command.

"It seems," he said, pausing as his eyes lingered on each of them in turn, "we're going to be short on people."

Leighton, who had been listening intently, leaned forward slightly with a curious yet formal tone.

"What do you mean, sir…?"

Leo, who had been unusually quiet after his earlier exchange with Julian, perhaps realizing he had spoken too much, suddenly perked up. His voice carried a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

"Whoa… you're going to release him?"

Glain's eyes shifted toward Leo, calm yet carrying weight. "Yes. We're going to make use of him."

Julian, who had already heard about Joe's rebellion, how he had stirred trouble only to demand the blueprint for converting energy crystals, leaned back in his chair. His gaze locked on Glain, cold and unyielding, his eyes narrowing into a sharp, scrutinizing slit.

"Are you certain? He's already crossed a line he should never have crossed. Bringing him back into the fold will only add another burden to manage."

Leighton, hearing Julian's words, gave a polite nod. His fingers interlaced over the table, posture upright, voice respectful but firm.

"Julian is right. There's no guarantee Mr. Joe won't cause trouble again, or worse, sabotage our plans entirely."

Leo, however, only glanced between Julian and Leighton, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His tone was casual, almost playful, yet something calculated hid beneath it.

"Isn't that the point? That's exactly what we need right now."

The room seemed to pause at his remark. The faint hum of the ceiling lights and the distant clatter of machinery beyond the walls were the only sounds that followed. Leighton's brows furrowed ever so slightly, while Julian's eyes lingered on Leo, studying the man as if trying to pierce through his intentions.

Glain's gaze lingered on Leo for a few seconds longer than necessary. It wasn't anger, nor was it approval, but something far more guarded. His fingers tapped once against the table, a slow, deliberate rhythm that broke the stillness in the room.

Julian didn't look away from Leo. The dim light caught the faint edge of a smirk that never quite formed on his lips. His voice, when it came, was low and measured.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Leo leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, as if the tension didn't touch him at all.

"I mean… sometimes the best way to light a fire is to throw in something volatile." His eyes flicked briefly to Glain, then to Julian, and there was a glint there, sharp, deliberate. "And Joe is… very volatile."

Leighton shifted slightly, the chair creaking under his movement. He straightened his collar, his tone still formal but with an undercurrent of unease.

"With all due respect, Mr. Leo, that's not fire. That's a bomb. And bombs… have a habit of blowing up in everyone's face."

For a moment, no one spoke. The hum of the lights seemed louder now, as though the room itself was listening. Outside, the muffled echo of metal striking metal rang from somewhere deep in the facility.

Glain finally exhaled, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "We don't decide by fear alone," he said, voice even. "Sometimes the risk is worth taking." His eyes slid back to Julian. "But I want to hear your solution, if not Joe."

Julian's fingers drummed once on the table, mirroring Glain's earlier gesture. His eyes didn't blink.

"My solution is simple," he said. "Don't invite chaos into the room and call it strategy."

Leo chuckled under his breath, the sound soft but sharp enough to cut through the stillness. "Or," he said, "you could stop pretending you don't like a little chaos, Julian."

Rafael, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke, his voice trembling, yet carrying an undertone of courage that hadn't been there before. He stared down at the table, his fingers curling nervously against the wooden surface, before saying, "What Uncle Glain said… it makes sense. And I believe Joe won't ruin our plans."

The room fell into stunned silence. Every pair of eyes shifted toward him, surprised that the timid Rafael, the one who always kept his opinions buried, was now openly defending Joe's inclusion.

Glain's aged face softened ever so slightly. His weathered eyes crinkled as the faintest of smiles tugged at his lips. This was not the same frightened man he had once known, Rafael was learning to speak his mind.

Julian, however, narrowed his dark blue eyes, fixing Rafael with a cold, piercing stare that felt almost predatory. His voice was low and sharp, slicing through the air like a blade. "And what makes you so certain?"

Rafael could feel the weight of that gaze pressing down on him, the air growing heavier in his lungs. His shoulders hunched instinctively as his eyes darted upward, only to find Julian's unflinching glare locked directly on him. Panicking, Rafael quickly snatched up a loose sheet of paper from the table and held it in front of his face like a makeshift shield.

"S-sorry… please don't kill me…" he mumbled from behind the paper.

Leo broke into a wide grin, leaning back in his chair with a bark of laughter. "Ha! So you've finally grown a spine, Rafael. I thought you were just a mouse too afraid to squeak."

Luke, who had been quietly observing, finally joined in. He let his gaze sweep over everyone in the room before speaking in a calm but firm tone. "I think the idea has merit. We're fighting something far bigger than ourselves, and we need all the strength we can muster. With the Heavenly Dragon on our side, our chances improve."

Turning toward Julian, Luke's eyes hardened slightly. "I know Mr. Joe has… a mistakes. He's done things that can't be ignored. But we can turn that into his motivation, to make him work with us, not against us."

Glain's calm eyes swept across the room, weighing the tension that lingered in the air like a blade hovering over their heads. He knew, releasing Joe would be a double-edged sword. It could cut them down if mishandled, yet it could also be the very weapon they needed to bring down the Sky Whale.

Clearing his throat, Glain finally broke the silence.

"I suppose," he began, his voice steady, "I've yet to explain the situation from my side."

Julian's dark blue gaze snapped toward him like a whip.

"I don't need to hear it," he said sharply. "The decision itself carries far too much risk for us."

Before Glain could reply, Kevin leaned forward in his chair, an easy smile tugging at his lips.

"And it could bring us plenty of benefits as well," he interjected, his tone almost casual.

Julian's jaw tightened. Being interrupted mid-sentence was a quick way to earn his ire, and Kevin knew it. Julian eyes narrowed into something cold and cutting.

"Be silent, Kevin."

But Kevin, long accustomed to Julian's sharp tongue, simply met his glare with the same unfazed smile.

"I know Mr. Joe had no other choice when he tried to steal the blueprint," Kevin continued, his voice calm but firm. "It was because he had a responsibility to his men. He didn't want them dying pointlessly against the Pope. That tells me he'll be just fine working with us, if we let him."

Julian's lips curled into something close to a sneer.

"That man is a traitor," he said, his words slow, deliberate, and heavy with disdain. "If he had succeeded in stealing from us, it would've proven he's nothing but a coward. You think I'll trust my back to him?"

Rafael straightened in his seat, though the stiffness in his shoulders betrayed his nerves. Still, he spoke with a voice that tried, perhaps too hard, to sound firm.

"Mr. Joe will not betray us," he said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended. "He once helped me… saved me."

Julian's gaze slid toward him, cold and unblinking, the kind of look that could freeze a man mid-breath. He let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking.

"And you think," Julian said slowly, his voice low and cutting, "that a single act of kindness guarantees he won't do the same thing again?"

The room seemed to shrink.

Glain, who had been silent until now, finally lifted his head. His weathered eyes locked onto Julian's, the faint creases on his face deepening.

"All right," he said evenly, "I know you don't agree. Maybe it doesn't sound reasonable… but we can ensure Joe won't turn on us again."

Julian's brow arched, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise guarded expression.

"Oh?" he murmured, leaning back slightly. "And how exactly do you propose to know that?"

Glain's reply was simple, almost too simple.

"You'll have to trust us."