Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 572: Nimo collapses.

The gates of Fortress Four opened with their usual bone deep groan. The hunting squad walked in like heroes from an old movie_ dusty, sweaty, and smelling like roasted wild things. Behind them were crates full of animal meat, some still wrapped in netting, and a smaller box filled with glowing orange devices they had picked up from the ruins.

"Where is our heroes welcome, dinner is secured for another month!" one of the hunters shouted dramatically.

"We have eaten too much meat lately.... I am getting tired of it," Phillip muttered.

An old man that was wiping the outside windows of the reception room sighed. He thought the younger ones were foolish! In an apocalypse where people were starving outside, how could someone say that they were tired of eating meat?

But his opinions were kept to himself because he was neither a hunter, nor capable of eating as much meat as he wanted with his old teeth.

Nimo pulled off her gloves and rolled her shoulders. "I don’t know how anyone can eat meat after the Krotchner incident, I have been a vegetarian for a while, and I think mutated mushrooms taste better than meat."

"You can’t become vegetarian in the apocalypse," Zed replied. "The vegetables are more dangerous than the animals. Have you forgotten about the flowers that just tried to swallow us in the forest?"

"They eat us and we eat them; it is only fair." Philip joked.

That got a few tired laughs.

"To the decontamination center people, move it!" Dwayne shouted. "And nobody mention the Krotchner disaster because I lose my appetite whenever I hear about it."

The hunters moved on, teasing each other and laughing as they walked to their destination. The heavy blast doors of the decontamination center hissed shut, sealing the hunting party inside with the smell of wet earth and high-octane adrenaline.

The group began the clunky, noisy process of unbuckling their belts and unloading weapons. Metal plates hit the floor with heavy thuds, and the cooling fans in exo suits whirred down like tired jet engines.

Amidst this, Dwayne moved through the steam, clutching a digital clipboard. He looked like a man who hadn’t seen a full night’s sleep since the world broke. He zeroed in on Nimo as she struggled with her iron shirt.

"Hey," Dwayne said, leaning against a deacon-unit with a tired but genuine smirk. "Don’t think I forgot about our date. Tonight. Lauren’s Sandwich Place. I heard she added burgers to the menu."

Nimo let out a short, dramatic sigh, her hands fumbling with the stubborn neck seals of her iron shirt. "Dwayne, Lauren’s is a total rip-off. It costs like 100 bucks for a piece of bread and and meat in between. Can’t we just go for ice cream? It’s hot as fuck out there and I feel like I’m being slow cooked in this tin can the moment took off the heat suit."

Dwayne laughed, stepping in to help. He grabbed the sides of her iron shirt, guiding the zipper down to the right side of her stomach. His breath hitched when his fingers grazed her bare flesh. "I’ve been hoarding my money for a year, Neems. I like spending them on you. If I want to buy you the most expensive grilled cheese in the apocalypse, that’s my right. But we can go for ice cream after."

He went to his knees and unstrapped her boots, then started working on helping her remove the gloves. But his grin vanished instantly when he noticed the reddish marks of a bite on her hand.

That was when he started noticing other things he had missed. Nimo did not simply look exhausted; her face was a deep, alarming shade of red. Thick beads of sweat were rolling down her temples, and her breathing was coming in short, ragged hitches.

"Whoa," Dwayne said, his voice dropping an octave. "Your face is reddish and you are sweating a lot, Neems."

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting the thermal band on her suit toward the light. His eyes widened. The digital readout wasn’t just high; it was flashing a warning. Her temperature was sitting at 106°F.

"I’m fine," Nimo muttered, wiping her forehead with a shaky hand. "It’s just the heat."

Zed, who had already zipped out of an exo suit and was currently leaning against a crate of cold drinks, shook his head. "Could be that mutated rabbit bite, Nimo. It got a good chunk of your arm; you should get that checked."

"I feel fine," Nimo snapped, though her voice sounded like it was coming from a mile away. She turned to head toward the exit, taking one confident step before her knees turned to water.

She staggered, her eyes rolling back into her head.

The world seemed to move in slow motion for everyone else, but for Zed, it stood still. In a blur of motion that left a literal hum in the air, he vanished from his spot. He traveled like a bolt of light, reappearing underneath Nimo’s collapsing frame. He caught her mid-air, her head resting against his shoulder just inches before she hit the cold metal grating of the floor.

"Neems!" Zed looked up at Dwayne, his usual cocky expression replaced by pure worry. "This cannot be good."

"Take her to the medic bay now, I’ll be right behind you." Dwayne ordered.

The tires of the jeep screamed against the stoned ground as Dwayne pushed the engine to its limit. Zed had already blurred toward the medic bay on foot, but Dwayne wasn’t far behind, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The orange devices rattled in the passenger seat, their rhythmic pulsing feeling like a ticking clock.

By the time Dwayne burst through the sterile swinging doors of the medic bay, the frantic beeping of monitors had taken over. Nimo’s body was pale, nearly swallowed by a tangle of cooling tubes and wires. A team of nurses was frantically swapping out ice packs that seemed to melt the moment they touched her skin.

Dr. Cody, a man who usually moved with the grace of a snail, was actually sprinting between workstations.

Dwayne caught him by the lab coat as he tried to rush past.

"Doc! Talk to me," He barked, his voice cracking. "Is she... is she awakening?" Dwayne clutched at that hope.

Dr. Cody paused, his shoulders sagging under his scrubs. He wiped a streak of sweat from his face. "Dwayne, listen to me. Normally, a fever for someone awakening sits around 41°C. It’s hot, but it’s manageable. Nimo is sitting at 45.1°C."

Dwayne felt the air leave his lungs. "Forty-five? That’s... that’s not a fever, Doc. That’s a furnace!"

"We’re worried," Cody said, his voice dropping. "The bite wound on her hand? It should have closed by now if it were a normal mutation. Instead, the discoloration is spreading. It’s like a poison we’ve never seen. We’re preparing to amputate the hand to stop the poison from spreading if we cannot stop it. We need you to call her family... we need consent for the surgery."