The second rumble ended in a pathetic little whine.
It was a deep, hollow, incredibly loud GRRRRUUUMBLE.
Adrian blinked, glancing toward the dashboard. "Was that the transmission?"
Dia stared straight ahead through the blood-smeared windshield.
"It was the tectonic plates shifting beneath the highway."
Adrian slowly turned his head.
"A... tectonic plate?"
"A minor seismic event."
Another growl.
Dia’s expression remained perfectly serious.
"Completely unrelated to me."
Adrian stared at her for several seconds.
Then he looked at her tiny frame.
Her slightly sunken cheeks.
The oversized shirt practically swallowing her.
The scuffed sneakers that were several sizes too large.
And suddenly, realization hit him like a truck.
She’s five.
She’s tiny.
Her own family literally threw her to the zombies.
When was the last time this kid ate a proper meal?
Adrian slapped a hand against his forehead.
Carefully avoiding the dinosaur band-aid.
"Dia."
She looked at him.
"Are you hungry?"
"Negative."
The answer came instantly.
"My caloric intake is currently adequate."
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
Dia’s stomach growled again.
She looked deeply offended by her own biology.
[SYSTEM ALERT!]
The holographic marshmallow suddenly popped into existence beside her face.
It wore a tiny chef’s hat and held two digital pom-poms.
[HOST! CODE RED! CODE RED! THE TINY TUMMY IS SAD!]
Dia’s eyelid twitched.
Cease your interference.
[This is the perfect opportunity to earn Affection Points!]
No.
[Say the magic words! "Daddy, my tummy is doing a big rumbly-grumbly! Can we get nuggies?"]
I would rather walk into the zombie horde.
[Nuggies!]
No.
Adrian lowered the volume of the children’s song.
"It’s okay to be hungry, Dia."
His voice softened.
"Even the Thunder God needs to eat sometimes."
He paused.
"And honestly? I could use a snack too."
Dia processed this.
If Adrian was also hungry, then eating was no longer an admission of weakness.
It was simply a shared logistical requirement.
"If the Vanguard Commander requires sustenance to maintain combat proficiency," she said carefully, tugging her oversized collar back into place, "then acquiring food is a reasonable course of action."
Adrian barked out a laugh.
"Right. Reasonable course of action."
He slammed on the brakes.
He slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding slightly as he executed a sharp, aggressive right turn off the highway, completely abandoning his route back to the base.
Parenting 101: You feed the tiny overlord before you overthrow the traitorous regime.
"Food first."
Dia looked at him.
"Food first."
"Then we go home."
"Affirmative."
"Then we deal with Marcus."
Dia nodded.
"That sequence appears efficient."
Adrian grinned.
"That’s my girl."
He navigated through the debris-filled side streets, scanning the ruined storefronts. He needed somewhere that hadn’t already been stripped bare by scavengers. Preferably somewhere with enough food to last them several days.
And preferably somewhere that sold clothes.
He glanced sideways at Dia.
She was practically drowning inside her shirt.
"I saw you pull that band-aid and the milk out of nowhere earlier," Adrian said. "You’re a spatial ability user, aren’t you? Got a little pocket dimension hiding somewhere?"
Dia considered the question.
Spatial abilities existed in this world, especially in this apocalyptic reality.
Besides, they were rare.
They were valuable.
And, most importantly, they provided a perfectly reasonable explanation for her System inventory.
"Affirmative."
She nodded.
"I possess sub-dimensional storage capacity."
Adrian whistled.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"How much can you store?"
Dia thought about it.
"Current inventory capacity is sufficient."
There was a pause in Dia’s words, as if she was organizing her thoughts before speaking up again.
"However, my inventory currently contains one half-empty bottle of strawberry milk."
Adrian stared at her.
"That’s it?"
"Correct."
He laughed.
"Then we’re going shopping."
Dia nodded solemnly.
"Acquisition of solid food is required."
"Exactly."
A few minutes later, Adrian spotted something rising above the ruined suburban skyline.
A massive commercial complex.
The neon sign on its roof had been shattered, but enough letters remained to make out the name:
STARLIGHT GALLERIA.
It was a mega-mall.
Adrian’s eyes lit up.
"Jackpot."
He drove straight over the curb.
CRUNCH.
A decorative planter disappeared beneath the tires.
The SUV rolled to a stop directly in front of the shattered main entrance.
Adrian killed the engine.
Silence suddenly filled the cabin.
"Alright," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Mission parameters."
He slipped into Commander mode.
"We go inside and find the food court. We raid the stores for anything edible. High-calorie food first. Non-perishables second."
He pointed toward Dia.
"Then we find you some clothes."
Dia looked down at herself.
Her oversized Princess In Training shirt.
Her scuffed shoes.
The sleeve covering almost half her hand.
"My current attire provides excellent ventilation."
"Uh-huh."
"The footwear also remains functional."
Adrian looked at one of her sneakers.
The sole was halfway detached.
"That shoe is one strong breeze away from becoming a hat."
Dia looked down.
The shoe was, indeed, falling apart.
She frowned.
"I concede that its structural integrity is compromised."
Adrian snorted.
"Come on."
He climbed out, retrieved his heavy steel wrench from the back, and walked around to the passenger side.
He opened the door and scooped Dia out of her booster seat.
She made a tiny surprised noise.
"Ah—"
Then immediately settled against his chest.
Adrian carried her through the shattered entrance.
The Starlight Galleria was a graveyard of consumerism.
The massive atrium stretched before them, illuminated by thin shafts of gray sunlight filtering through cracked skylights.
The escalators were frozen beneath layers of dust.
Mannequins stood inside abandoned storefronts, missing limbs and heads.
Overturned kiosks littered the floor.
Clothes were scattered everywhere.
The faint metallic smell of dried blood lingered in the stale air.
The mall had been abandoned on Day One.
And something about it felt wrong.
"Stay close," Adrian murmured.
His cheerful, truck-driving-dad persona disappeared.
The apex predator returned.
His S-Rank lightning core hummed quietly within his chest.
Tiny blue sparks crawled across his knuckles.
"Malls are like death traps. There are many blind corners and many places for something to hide."
Dia nodded.
Her large eyes moved across the atrium.