In Naruto, multiverse and more with Gacha system

Rika swung her baton, the satisfying crack of another zombie's skull sending a jolt through her body. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she wiped it away with the back of her hand, flicking the stray strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. This was a mess—no other way to put it. Surrounded by rotting, groaning corpses, and here she was, just one girl with a baton trying to make it out alive. Not exactly the hero's journey, huh?

Another zombie reached for her, but Rika ducked and swung the baton up in one sharp, swift motion, knocking its head clean off. "You'd think after all this time, they'd learn not to mess with me," she muttered, barely catching her breath. "I'm getting pretty good at this."

Her legs felt like lead, and every swing grew heavier. These zombies weren't slowing down. Why can't you guys just stay down?

"Seriously?!" she hissed, narrowly dodging a grubby hand. "Is this really how it ends for me? Getting mobbed by a bunch of brainless jerks?"

But she kept moving, kept swinging. She wasn't going down without a fight. But honestly? Inside, she was starting to doubt it. This couldn't be how it ended, right? Alone, fighting off zombies, stuck in this hellhole with no backup? She'd always imagined her death would be on her terms—maybe an epic showdown with a badass villain or getting taken out while doing something heroic. But no—this was like a B-movie gone wrong.

"Come on, Rika. You can do this. You've survived worse, right?" she muttered to herself, only half-believing it. Yeah, totally survived worse... like that time I didn't study for the final and still passed somehow.

With a grunt, she slammed the baton down on another approaching zombie, the satisfying crack of bone echoing in the quiet. "Hah! Nice try, you brain-dead idiot."

But just as she thought she was getting the upper hand, she saw them—more zombies, closing in from all sides. Her stomach twisted as she took a few steps back, eyes darting from one groaning figure to the next. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

"Alright, Rika. What's the game plan here?" she muttered sarcastically, eyes scanning for any sort of escape. "Maybe I'll get lucky, and someone will come barging in with a chainsaw or something. You know, something practical for once."

But the zombies just kept coming, and that plan was starting to feel about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

"Ugh, great," she sighed. "And I was just starting to get into my groove too."

She couldn't hide it anymore. She was tired. Like, really tired. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion—though that was a huge factor—it was the mental toll too. The endless waves of undead were starting to feel less like a challenge and more like an unending slog. Each swing of the baton felt heavier, each step more sluggish than the last. Maybe this is it, she thought bitterly, maybe this is how it ends...

As the wave of zombies kept coming, Rika's mind briefly wandered. She couldn't help but think about Shizuka. She should be safe, right?

The call from Shizuka before HANE confirmed she was with a group now. And, according to her, the leader was even stronger than her.

How could he be stronger than me? Rika thought, a flash of pride hitting her. But Shizuka doesn't lie, so there has to be some truth to it. Maybe some ex-officer or a secret agent? Whatever he was, Rika hoped he was the real deal.

The thought of Shizuka being in good hands gave Rika a moment of comfort. But then, a darker thought crept in. I hope she doesn't get betrayed too...

She sighed heavily, her baton slipping in her sweaty grip. Yeah… because she was. The memory of her own betrayal—used as bait to lure the others out of the airport by her own comrades—hit her like a freight train. That cold feeling washed over her, and her swing became less steady. She tried to push it away. She couldn't let her guard down now.

But her movements were slowing. The baton slipped from her hand as her vision started to blur. The last thing she saw before everything faded to blue was a figure. Is someone really coming to help? She thought. No… can't be. No one's gonna save me from this horde.

Then, she felt it. A presence catching her—strong, steady. She wasn't sure if it was real or just her mind playing tricks on her in the fog of exhaustion. But in that moment, she didn't care. Even if it was just an illusion, it was enough to make her feel like maybe—just maybe—someone was out there.

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