That night, Magnus Vane sat beside the campfire with a thick piece of roasted meat in one hand and ate with unusual enthusiasm.
The amount of energy he had burned cutting trees, crafting defenses, exploring the woods, and killing walkers nearly matched what he had spent fighting through Atlanta.
Only after finishing three large pieces of meat and a bowl of greens did the hollow feeling in his stomach finally ease.
When Magnus looked up, however, he noticed everyone around the fire staring at him strangely.
“What?” Magnus asked, genuinely confused.
Amy sat beside him and glanced at the empty plates before asking softly, “Do you always eat this much?” The amount Magnus had just finished could probably have fed her for several meals.
His growing Strength and increasingly violent fighting style were clearly demanding more food than an ordinary person needed.
Merle grinned from across the fire and winked at Magnus.
“Looks like me and baby brother are gonna have to start bringing down bigger game if we’re feeding your big ass.” Daryl ignored the joke entirely and began checking his crossbow bolts after finishing dinner, carefully inspecting each shaft and broadhead.
Andrea simply watched the small group with a faint smile, feeling more relaxed than she had in days.
The seventeen Wooden Spike Traps surrounding their tents had given Andrea an unexpected sense of security.
Their group was tiny compared with the old quarry camp, yet the traps, tents, weapons, and simple warning system made this patch of ground feel more secure than a crowd of frightened people ever had.
There were only five of them now, but somehow that didn’t feel like a weakness.
For the first time since the outbreak, Andrea caught herself thinking of the place as home.
After dinner, Hershel invited Magnus into the farmhouse for tea, and they spent nearly two hours discussing the farm, nearby roads, supplies, and the growing number of walkers in the area.
Hershel still disagreed with Magnus about what the dead truly were, but their arrangement had at least given them enough common ground to talk without arguing every few minutes.
By the time Magnus returned to his tent, the camp had already gone quiet.
He lay down, placed one hand behind his head, and opened the system interface.
Two unused skill points remained from reaching Level 6.
Magnus considered his options for a few seconds before deciding there was no reason to spread his build around yet.
“Strength is still carrying me,” he muttered.
“Might as well keep pushing it.”
He invested both points.
Warmth immediately spread through his entire body, almost like sinking into hot water after a long day.
Strength didn’t simply mean harder punches or heavier swings; each increase made his legs, waist, back, shoulders, and arms work together more efficiently.
Movements that had once required conscious effort were becoming increasingly natural, especially when redirecting the momentum of a heavy sledgehammer.
[Strength Lv.4 / 10 — Gluttonous Stomach]
[Strength and Strength-based headshot effectiveness increased.]
[You do your best not to starve.]
Magnus selected the attribute again.
[Strength Lv.5 / 10 — Good Health]
[Strength and Strength-based headshot effectiveness increased.]
[Your body is now in excellent condition.]
Magnus flexed his fingers and smiled faintly.
He was already halfway through the core Strength attribute, and the difference was becoming impossible to ignore.
The complex movements he had used while fighting multiple walkers—turning, redirecting momentum, and chaining heavy strikes together—now felt much easier.
Satisfied, he closed the interface and went to sleep.
The next day, Magnus slept until nearly noon before finally waking.
He planted one hand against the ground and pushed himself upright, only to rise so easily that he almost overbalanced.
The sudden improvement still felt strange, but not unpleasant.
“Getting stronger has its own problems,” he muttered with a grin as he put on his shoes and stepped outside.
The grin vanished instantly.
Magnus froze in place.
Andrea noticed his expression and immediately approached.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning, because since meeting Magnus she had never seen him look genuinely shocked.
He seemed not to hear her at first and slowly raised his head toward the sky.
“Andrea.”
“What?”
“What color is the sky?”
She looked upward, confused.
“Blue.
What else would it be?
Weather’s actually pretty nice today.” Andrea glanced toward the clothes she had washed earlier and hung out to dry before turning back toward Magnus.
“Why?”
Magnus forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace.
“Blue, huh?”
Because in his eyes, the sky wasn’t blue at all.
A huge blood-red moon hung overhead despite the fact that it was broad daylight.
Its craters and uneven surface were unnaturally clear, while a faint reddish haze seemed to spread across everything whenever Magnus focused on it.
One look was enough to drag a forgotten 7 Days to Die mechanic back into his mind.
Magnus rubbed both hands across his face.
“Of course.
Seven days.” Everything had happened so quickly after arriving—the tank, Rick, the bite, the system, Merle, the quarry, Hershel’s farm—that he had somehow forgotten the most obvious part of 7 Days to Die.
Every seven days came the Blood Moon.
“Today’s the damn horde night.”
Magnus moved away from camp and sat down in the grass, forcing himself to think carefully.
If the system followed the game’s progression, the first Blood Moon shouldn’t be nearly as dangerous as later ones, and the number of attacking walkers should still be manageable.
Even so, Blood Moon walkers wouldn’t behave like the slow dead everyone around Hershel’s farm was accustomed to fighting.
Magnus couldn’t afford to treat this like an ordinary group of walkers.
He looked toward the red moon again and noticed something else.
His heartbeat was faster, his muscles felt restless, and a violent pressure seemed to be building inside him instead of fear.
His fingers scratched lightly against his thigh as the urge to swing the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer grew stronger.
“I really want to hit something.”
Magnus frowned at the thought.
For an instant, a faint red glimmer appeared deep in his eyes.
The Blood Moon wasn’t affecting only the walkers.
Something about the event was pushing Magnus into a heightened combat state as well, sharpening his aggression and preparing his body for violence.
The realization immediately changed his plans.
If the horde was specifically coming for him, fighting near camp would put everyone else in unnecessary danger.
“No.
I’m not doing this here.”
Magnus stood and headed back toward the tents.
Andrea, Amy, Daryl, Merle, Hershel’s family, and the others had none of the system protections he possessed.
Magnus could treat an infection with antibiotics, but a normal survivor bitten during the Blood Moon would still face the same fate as anyone else in The Walking Dead world.
He found Andrea and held out his hand.
“I need the SUV.”
She studied him carefully.
“Where are you going?”
“Into town.
I need supplies.”
Andrea hesitated before handing over the keys.
“I’ll be gone awhile,” Magnus said.
“Don’t save lunch or dinner for me.”
Before she could ask more questions, he climbed into the SUV and headed east toward the nearby town Hershel had mentioned.
Magnus arrived around 3:40 that afternoon.
The Blood Moon still dominated his vision no matter which direction he faced, and the red haze around the world had grown much heavier.
He shut off the engine, climbed out, and pressed one hand against his chest.
His pulse was definitely faster.
“So it’s not just in my head.”
The town was large enough that whoever lived nearby couldn’t possibly have stripped every building completely clean.
Magnus had several hours remaining, and he intended to use them gathering whatever could improve his chances.
Food, water, medicine, armor, ammunition—anything useful went into the system inventory.
Time passed quickly.
At 11:50 PM, Magnus sat behind the wheel of the parked SUV and pulled his collar aside to check the crude armor beneath his outer clothing.
[Wooden Armor Set]
[Crafting Materials: Plant Fiber ×5, Wood ×5]
It looked primitive, but even a small amount of extra protection was better than nothing when teeth were involved.
Magnus had also equipped the Cigar reward from the motorcycle quest into an available armor mod slot, giving him another temporary Strength boost.
Smoke drifted around his face as he checked the final notification.
[Cigar Mod Equipped]
[Strength +1]
His inventory was packed with backup food, drinking water, medicine, and whatever useful supplies he had managed to scavenge.
Magnus had found ammunition but no functioning firearm, leaving him with only a smoke grenade and the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer for actual combat.
It wasn’t ideal, but he had survived worse.
Ten minutes remained.
Magnus stared through the windshield as the red haze outside thickened.
His breathing remained controlled.
His heartbeat didn’t.
His fingers tightened repeatedly around the steering wheel as something inside him grew increasingly eager for midnight to arrive.
Magnus slowly smiled.
His condition was becoming increasingly abnormal.