"Huff…"
Alfred let out a heavy breath, leaning against the blood-slick wall behind him. His hands dripped red which was not his own, but thick with the blood of the creatures he'd just torn through. His coat was soaked to the elbows, sticky with dried and fresh blood alike.
he had done a massacre.
"Carnage is the word that can describe the screen in front of him more perfectly."
Mangled bodies of the undead littered the area some slumped against walls, others sprawled across the floor in dismembered heaps. A few were stuck into the walls, impaled so hard their limbs dangled like grotesque trophies. Heads missing. Chests caved in. Jaws shattered.
And this wasn't some cliché horde of slow, shambling corpses. No. These bastards ran. But they weren't fast enough. Not for him
And he'd still butchered every last one of them.
"Not bad…" he muttered, voice low beneath the mask, his chest rising and falling with the adrenaline high.
"Not bad for my first massacre, right?" Alfred muttered, a half-smirk playing on his lips as he wiped his black blade clean on the tattered clothes of one of the zombies.
The steel hissed against the fabric, still warm from the fight.
He'd tried five different devices by now. All of them dead. No signal. No power. Not even a boot screen. Nothing." And of course, no working electronics," he added with a sigh, glancing at the shattered phone on the ground.
"Because why the hell would they work in this godforsaken place?"
----
In the dead silence of the abandoned city, the only sound was the distant moan of something unholy echoing from the streets below.
And above it all — a blur.
A shadow flickered across the rooftops. Fast. Unseen. Moving from building to building with inhuman speed.
Alfred.
His figure appeared for only a split second before vanishing again, hopping between rooftops like a ghost. No normal person could track him. No one human, at least.
He was scanning, searching, desperate for answers.
The more ground he covered, the more the truth settled in his gut like cold lead.
This place was completely, irreversibly screwed.
He landed on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, boots scraping against the gravel as he slowed. Ahead, a twisted, rusting sign hung crooked above a shattered office tower.
A twisted sign creaked in the wind, hanging loosely above a scorched skyscraper:
"Wayne Industries."
Alfred stood still.
His breath caught for a second not from awe, but from realization that he wish was not true.He slowly looked around… every broken screen, every sparking cable, every dead electronic device.
And then it clicked.
"Oh… shit."
"This is Deceased. The zombie apocalypse from the comics… the one with the goddamn Anti-Life Virus."
It all started adding up.The glitching ticket. The "C" in its corrupted text.It had stood for comics.
The timer whatever distorted number it had left wasn't just a bug.It was a countdown.A clock ticking down the days he could survive here before being sent back.
"I've got… what? Thirty days? Twenty? Doesn't matter."
He took a breath. Steady. Controlled.
"Alright. Think, Alfred. From what I know, the virus infects through screens, sound, tech. Even the Justice League fell. Superman. Batman. Everyone."
His voice dropped, almost shaking now."Except… Cyborg."
Cyborg had the cure in the canon.If Alfred could find him if Cyborg even existed in this version there might be a chance to fight back.Or survive and even saved the world .
But that was a big if.
"So, two options: track down Cyborg and get the cure, or stay alive until the damn ticket pulls me out of here."
The plan was risky. Both paths were.But at least he had a goal now.
"But holding up somewhere was much easier than trying to find Cybor, especially with a superhuman zombie running around."
"Okay. I'll be fine," Alfred muttered, more to convince himself than anything.
A dry groan echoed from below.Then another.
And then… the streets erupted with motion.
Dozens of zombified figures surged from alleys and craters, sprinting toward the building he stood on.
Alfred glanced down, eyes narrowing behind his mask.
"Right now, I will focus on running."
He spun the chain-blade from his arm with a flick and leapt down into the chaos below.