[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 469 - The Appallingly Low Success Rate of the Solar Stairway

Hershel stood on the ridge of the field, watching Maggie's lonely silhouette.

The hoe lay on the ground like a discarded toy. Its owner just stared at the distant tree line, as if she could find that man somewhere in the shadows beyond the last branch.

He wanted to walk over. Say something. Anything. But he stopped himself.

Truth be told, he didn't think Leon was coming back alive.

The man could control Walkers. The dead roaming out there posed no real threat to him. And Citizen Z had swept every river in the surrounding area with satellite imagery. Nothing.

It was already obvious.

Some wounds can only be licked in private.

Hershel sighed and turned away.

He made his way back to the farmhouse, lowered himself into the rocking chair, the wood creaking under him like it always did, and poured himself a whiskey.

Leon. That man had pulled them all back from the edge.

He'd done it the brutal way, the direct way, and he'd held this place together through sheer force of will.

Hershel took a slow sip, and Maggie's face surfaced in his mind. The way she looked at Leon. He'd always known exactly what his daughter was thinking.

Which was why he'd kept stopping her. A father's authority, applied like a brake. He'd wanted to pull her back onto what he called the safe path. Leon had too many women. He'd feared Maggie would never get the happiness she deserved.

But now, sitting here with a glass in his hand, he had to wonder.

Had he meddled too much?

Everyone was living on borrowed time. Who got to spend a whole life with the person they loved? If even a man like Leon could be taken by misfortune, what did any of that mean?

He should have just said yes. Back when Maggie first asked.

Living is about seizing the moment. What else is there?

Regret after the fact is worth nothing at all.

Hershel made a sound that was almost a laugh, drained the glass in one swallow, and stared at the wall.

He could only hope God would open His eyes this time. Stop tormenting his daughter.

......

The atmosphere in the prison was suffocating.

Everyone kept their voices deliberately low. Even footsteps sounded heavier than they should have.

Leon's disappearance had ripped the spine right out of the place.

Faces were numb. Eyes were hollow. People moved like they'd forgotten what they were doing halfway through doing it.

They'd grown used to that man being at the front of everything. Used to his voice crackling through the walkie-talkie. Used to the bone-deep certainty that as long as he was there, it didn't matter what fell, they'd be fine.

Now it felt like the sky actually had.

BANG!

Ashley's door.

She came charging out, hair wrecked, eyes shot through with red. She didn't acknowledge the startled looks. Didn't slow down. She went straight for the lab at the deepest end of the prison, hit the door at full speed, and kicked it open.

"How's the research going!"

Candice was at the bench with her goggles on, drawing something from one of the flower's strange petals with a precision syringe. The sudden intrusion nearly sent it out of her hand.

"Ashley?" She pulled the goggles down, frowning. "You need to calm down."

"I can't calm down." Ashley crossed the room in three strides, both hands on the edge of the bench, eyes locked on the Solar Stairway sitting inside its incubator. "Tell me what this thing actually does."

Her voice was shaking.

She couldn't make sense of it. A few small flowers. That's what Leon had traded his life for. That's what they were worth?

By what right?

Candice looked at her for a long moment and said nothing.

She knew there was nothing useful to say right now.

She turned to the main screen instead and pulled up the analysis data.

"The preliminary results are in."

Her voice was level.

"The cellular structure of this flower is highly unusual. The biological energy contained within it exceeds anything we've documented in any known species."

She pointed to the readouts cycling across the screen.

"It can strengthen a living organism at the genetic level. Dramatically increases cellular activity. Accelerates tissue regeneration."

"In plain terms: it fortifies the body and repairs damage."

"It also stimulates the cerebral cortex, tightening neural connections. Which means cognitive enhancement."

"And most critically — it can slow or even reverse telomere shortening." Candice looked at her. "Do you know what that means?"

Ashley shook her head.

"Lifespan." Candice let the word land. "It can extend a living organism's lifespan by an extraordinary margin."

Repair. Strengthen. Longevity.

Ashley got it.

That was it. That was why.

No wonder Leon had risked everything to get his hands on it.

"Then what are we waiting for!" She pushed off the bench. "Use it on me right now. I'm going after Leon. The more I think about it, the more certain I am — Umbrella has him. They took him."

"It's not that simple." Candice's voice didn't waver. Cold water, cleanly poured. "We don't know the correct extraction process yet. We don't know the correct delivery method. One mistake at any step and this flower becomes a lethal poison."

She looked at Ashley, and something in her expression shifted. Softer. More careful.

"I've run the numbers."

"In your current condition, your genetic chain would collapse immediately."

"The flower contains a superantigen toxin. It overstimulates the immune system, triggering systemic inflammation, followed by necrosis of the skin and other external tissue."

"Massive fluid loss. Secondary infections. Sepsis. Severe shock." She paused. "Then death."

"The only individuals who survive are those whose immune receptors mutate after exposure — a specific adaptation that blocks the superantigen from triggering those cells. Without that mutation, there is no surviving it."

"But the odds of that happening..."

Candice stopped. The number sat behind her teeth like something she didn't want to release.

"How many?" Ashley's voice had gone rough. "What are the odds?"

"Under 5 percent."

5 percent.

Ashley took a step back. Then another. Her shoulders hit the wall.

The color left her face completely.

That low.

➤ Next: Determination — Tears Unshed