The first knock came at dawn.
Three, soft. Intentional.
It's not a pounding demand. It's not a panic-driven plea.
A measured signal.
Logan opened the security feed. The drone hovering above the east fence zoomed in, infrared lens filtering through the ash-heavy morning air.
Two figures waited at the front gate.
Clean clothing. Identical dark-gray tactical jackets. One male, one female. The male was smiling. The woman held a data slate. Neither looked particularly armed, but both stood like soldiers.
Chris stood beside Logan, shotgun slung low.
"Diplomats?"
"Scouts," Logan said. "Diplomats lie. Scouts observe."
"Could still be both."
"Exactly."
They descended to the airlock and opened the outer gate. The two strangers didn't flinch. Instead, the man raised both hands slowly and grinned widely.
"Good morning," he said. "Beautiful bastion you've got here. I'm Elias, and this is June. We're with Haven."
June nodded curtly. "We'd like to request a dialogue."
Chris muttered under his breath, "Request, huh?"
Logan stepped forward, eyes like frozen steel.
"Speak."
Elias didn't hesitate. "Your claim went live last night. Well-structured. We've had our eye on this zone for a while now—lots of potential. Strong foundation. Controlled perimeter. Very few active infestations." He spoke like a man at a business meeting, not in the middle of a zombie-ridden wasteland.
He spoke like a man at a business meeting, not in the middle of a zombie-ridden wasteland.
June held up the data slate. "We've come to offer a negotiation: territorial alignment, shared logistics, and access to Haven's medical tech and food chain in exchange for compliance with standard directives."
Logan's eyes flicked to the slate.
The System pinged.
Data Request Incoming
Cross-Faction Alignment Protocol
Agreement Type: Subordinate Cooperative
Clause Highlights:
• Must adhere to Haven's law network
• Must notify Haven of all expansion or recruitment
• Must tithe 15% of resources quarterly
• Must not engage or assist rival factions
Failure to comply results in revocation of support and marked hostile status
Chris leaned closer. "They want taxes?"
"And control," Logan replied.
Elias didn't blink. "Everyone needs structure."
Logan's voice dropped.
"You already tried structure, a system of control that led to conflict and betrayal," Logan accused.
Elias tilted his head. "Come again?"
Logan pulled a remote from his belt and tapped a button.
A screen flickered to life on the wall behind them, showing Luka—still zip-cuffed, still bleeding, still conscious.
Elias's smile twitched.
"You came here with an open hand," Logan said. "But your last message had a knife."
June's eyes flicked to the feed. "That man acted independently."
"No," Logan said. "That man carried your crest. That makes you responsible."
Elias took a step back.
Chris unslung his shotgun, slow and deliberate.
"Leave your offer," Logan said. "Then get off my land."
June hesitated.
But Elias recovered his smile.
"No need for hostility. We'll give you time to think about it. But remember this—Haven is growing. And the ones who join early shape the future. The ones who resist… disappear into it."
They left without another word.
Logan didn't move until they were out of drone range.
Then he turned to Chris.
"Get Luka."
"What are we doing with him?"
Logan's voice was cold.
"Sending a message."
They dragged Luka outside before the sky fully cleared.
Chris was quiet the whole way.
The prisoner didn't scream. He barely reacted at all—just a slow, exhausted limp between them, blood dried into his collar, and one eye swollen shut. Logan hadn't fed him since the interrogation.
Luka had said his part.
Now he'd play his final role.
They brought him to the center of the outer yard, just inside the claimed influence radius. A wide circle of dirt flattened by foot traffic and drone hover paths. Logan's marker had been driven into the ground earlier: a reinforced steel spike holding a crude but unmistakable sigil burned into its face.
The symbol of Zero Point.
The foundation.
Chris looked up toward the turret, watching it rotate lazily over the horizon like it knew something was coming.
Luka knelt, hands zip-cuffed in front now, facing the sunrise. The red sky cast long shadows behind him, making him seem taller than he was.
Logan stood across from him, just far enough to be out of reach, arms folded.
"Any last words?" he asked flatly.
Luka coughed. Spat blood into the dirt.
"Your silence will get you killed."
Logan nodded once.
"I'm counting on it."
Then he turned to the System and opened a new prompt.
System Protocol Unlocked: Public Judgment Faction Morale Feature EnabledOptions:• Execute (Public)• Exile (Tracked)• Convert (Coerced)• Trial (Requires Law Tree Tier 2)
Logan selected Execute (Public).
Chris's head snapped toward him. "Wait—Logan—!"
Luka barely had time to react.
Logan stepped forward, pulled a sharpened rebar spike from his belt, and drove it down through the side of Luka's neck. It was not fast, and it was not clean.
The man choked. Gurgled. Twitched.
And bled out in the dirt.
It took less than ten seconds.
Logan stood straight, pulled the spike free, and let the body slump sideways.
The System flashed.
Public Execution Carried Out Effect: +15% Local Loyalty Effect: +10% Deterrence Radius Effect: Faction Trait Unlocked – FEAR AS LAW
Chris stared, jaw tight.
"What the hell was that?"
Logan looked at him, unflinching.
"A reminder."
Chris looked away. "To whom?"
"To everyone."
The System pulsed again.
New Passive Trait: Fear as Law. Your actions define the structure of your bastion. Fear-based actions increase order and reduce internal betrayal risk. In exchange, outsiders will view your faction with suspicion or hostility. Future faction members will require obedience over faith.
Chris didn't say anything after that.
He just went back inside.
Logan stared at Luka's corpse for a moment longer, then wiped the spike clean and returned it to his belt.
The morning was silent.
And the message was clear.
Zero Point would not bend.
The afternoon passed in silence.
Chris worked on turret calibration without speaking. Logan handled drone routes and motion sensor tuning. Neither talked about what happened.
But the base was changing.
The air felt heavier.
The lights flickered longer during rotation. The walls didn't creak from settling anymore—they groaned, like something older had woken up inside the steel and circuitry.
Logan reaccessed the Faction Interface.
Faction Name: Zero Point Founder: Logan [Awakened]Influence Radius: 1.5 km Defense Status: Moderate Morale: 73% Loyalty Type: Fear-Based Expansion Protocol Tier: INext Unlock: Settlement Level
He tapped into the new Law Tree tab.
It showed five empty slots.
Only one was filled.
Law #001: No outsider dictates survival.
He tapped Create Law #002.
He typed slowly.
Law #002: Betrayal is death.
The System confirmed.
Law #002 SetEffect: Increases Loyalty Degradation ResistanceEffect: Internal Conflicts Suppressed (Passively)Warning: Recruits will have reduced trust by default
He closed the tab and moved back to resource allocation.
The next few days would be critical. Haven would respond. Not with smiles. Not with threats.
With pressure.
Small groups. Psy-ops. Rumors.
He had to build faster.
Later that night, the drone detected movement on the west side of the bastion's influence range.
Not Haven.
Not raiders.
Two figures.
Unarmed. Civilian clothes. Moving carefully. Carrying a homemade banner of white and orange cloth. No gear. No guards.
Logan zoomed in.
Both were under twenty. A boy and a girl. Probably siblings. No visible wounds. Skinny. Exhausted.
They were holding up a tattered radio with the Haven broadcast still playing.
Chris appeared beside him at the console.
"Refugees."
Logan didn't answer.
The System pulsed.
Decision Point: Gate Interaction DetectedOptions:• Grant Access (Begin Integration)• Grant Temporary Shelter (No Integration)• Deny Entry• Interrogate / Isolate
Chris leaned on the edge of the console.
"You going to kill them too?"
Logan's face didn't twitch.
"They're not soldiers."
"No. They're kids."
"Which makes them a liability."
"They came because they saw a signal. Heard what Haven promised. Saw what you built."
Logan stared at the screen.
"The moment they're inside, the countdown starts."
Chris frowned. "Countdown to what?"
"Resentment. Division. Secrets. People bring people problems."
"Yeah. And they also build walls. Defend turrets. Cook food."
Logan didn't speak for a while.
Then he clicked Grant Temporary Shelter (No Integration).
The gates opened for just ten seconds. Enough for the two figures to limp inside, escorted directly by a drone.
Chris exhaled.
"You did the right thing."
"No," Logan said. "I did the necessary thing."
The gates closed behind them.
And the lights in the bastion glowed a little dimmer.