Aaron pulled the box closer to him and Harry. A dusty old blueprint lay underneath the box, the word AMBR-051A "AMBROSIA" scribbled on top in faded white chalk. Underneath the words was a series of images of metallic cubes with lights all over them, traveling down what looked like a tunnel. It took Aaron a few seconds to realize the image represented microbes flowing through the human bloodstream.

"Well, Schaefer was right about one thing," he said. "There's something in our bodies that really shouldn't be there."

He returned his view to the recorder and picked it up, waving it around in his hand. It had been years since he had seen anything resembling modern technology, even if that device was anything but modern. He hadn't watched a movie or played a video game since he was twelve. The closest thing he had to technology was the radio that every other room in Matheson had. He noticed a piece of tape stuck to the bottom of the recorder, with the number 6 scrawled on in black marker.

"That looks like the kind of thing that should be heard in chronological order," Kyle said. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah, you're right," Aaron said. "Probably more in the box."

Harry jumped on top of the box and started ripping it apart as if it were his human prey. Ironically, the sight of him dismembering the box disturbed both of his undead friends along with Aaron. It was hard to tell if the contents of the box were still in tact during his little frenzy, especially since pieces of cardboard were flying all over the room.

"What the fuck, man?!" Kyle shouted.

Things got even weirder when Harry started eating a piece of cardboard and started shaking it around in his mouth like a dog with a bone. Jade had to smack him in the back of the head to get him to drop it.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I was starting to get hungry, so I got a little carried away."

"You're lucky none of the stuff in the box got destroyed," Aaron said, brushing away the remaining pieces of ravaged cardboard. Laying in front of him on top of the desk were three other recorders and a dirty white binder. In order, the recorders were labeled 1, 3, and 4.

"Let's start from the beginning," Aaron said as he grabbed the recorder marked number one. He pressed play and was greeted by static and the sound of Colonel Schaefer's voice.

Good evening, diary...I should probably think of a more masculine way to acknowledge these audio logs by.

Sorry. Not important right now. And I seriously hope Tabitha doesn't hear this...

"That's Schaefer?" Jade asked. "He sounds like a wimp."

Good evening, whoever's listening. I'm Troy Schaefer, known only as Zeus by the test subjects of the Ambrosia Project. I'm the leader of this facility and the mind behind our mission to design a makeshift immortality for usage by the British military.

However, even though we've barely started this project two months ago in January, I feel like we've hardly made any progress. Granted, we have been able to record the Ambrosia's successful healing qualities within some of our subjects' injuries...

"Ambrosia?" Kyle repeated.

"Healing qualities?" Aaron repeated as well.

Robert Thaxton, codenamed Janus by the Ambrosia Project's Greek-themed alias assignment system, died after receiving multiple fractures in all four of his limbs along with a shattered spine due to a mishap involving a combat droid gone mad...

"Holy shit," Jade winced.

As if that wasn't bad enough, two test subjects, a veteran identified by the system as Ares and a sprog taken directly from one of the camps known as Atlas, were apprehended by security last night after trying to sneak out of their sleeping quarters...

"You were Atlas, right?" Jade asked Harry. "What the hell, mate? I thought you were the good kid."

"I don't know what I was thinking," Harry replied. "I can't even remember if I was thinking. But I'm assuming I wasn't."

If I find the one thing in this world that gives people like Ares hope and take control of it—maybe even destroy it—I'd be able to make him devolve into an animal like the rest of these so-called heroes...And that, listener, is the true purpose of the Ambrosia Project. I'm raising an army, but like everything else, it's not the superhuman healing or the combat training that makes us more dangerous than any other group of humans on the planet.

The most dangerous weapons of the Ambrosia Project are the demoralized humans taking part in it. But after the things we're about to put them through, they probably shouldn't be referred to as humans.

The recorder clicked off. Aaron and his friends eyes and mouths were wide open.

"So this...Ambrosia Project," Harry spoke slowly. "This is why we're all like this."

"But what is Ambrosia?" Kyle asked. "Is it a parasite? A curse? A prank?"

"That's why we're here, guys," Aaron replied. "Once we find out what caused all of this, we could lead others on a path toward the solution. And if Schaefer is behind all of this, we might actually be able to show what's left of the world who the real enemy is."

"Check the binder this time," Harry said.

Aaron placed the recorder on the desk beside the binder and opened it up. The first page was a map of the facility's three floors with the additional sub-level, which was just one large storage room. The first floor consisted of a training center, cafeteria, garage, and multiple examination rooms, where the four Deadmen were located. The second floor consisted mostly of sleeping quarters, with the only non-quarters rooms being balconies overlooking the training center and the garage. The third room contained the remaining sleeping quarters and stairs leading up to a helipad on the roof.

"Looks like we've got a lot of exploring to do," Aaron groaned. "How about we split up? Me and Harry explore one section while you two," he explained while looking at Jade and Kyle, "check out another?"

"Isn't splitting up the one thing we shouldn't do in these kinds of situations?" Kyle asked.

"We're Deadmen," Aaron replied. "We're the ones people run away from, remember?"

"What will we be looking for?" Jade asked.

"Anymore recorders and any notebooks, binders, documents, or even boxes marked with the word 'Ambrosia'. Just anything that may give us the identities of the people associated with the Ambrosia Project besides Schaefer. But more stuff on him would be great, too. List of victims, how the Ambrosia works, how did these people get here..."

"Can't you just ask Harry that stuff?" Jade interjected.

"I only remember the first day of the Outbreak," Harry replied. "I don't remember anything else before that, other than my first name."

"Not even your last name?"

"Do you know yours?"

Jade shrugged. "No."

"Exactly, mate. So we've got some exploring to do."

"It's settled," Aaron declared, clasping his hands together. "We'll meet back on the roof near the helipad. Got that, guys?"

"Right!" Jade and Kyle cheered in unison. Then the four of them separated, Jade and Kyle departing the room first and Aaron and Harry doing the same a few seconds later.

Aaron carried the recorders and the binder in a stack in his hands. He no longer felt exhausted due to the Ambrosia—whatever it was—coursing through his veins, but he could still feel his muscles at work. Harry limped down the hall beside him, oblivious to the fact he could've used a hand in carrying all that evidence.

"Are there any other parts of this building that Bloodletter destroyed?" Aaron asked.

"Oh, for sure, mate," Harry replied. "I remember hearing most of the hallway crumble near me as I fed off this one fallen soldier. The bombs worked so well, almost all of Bloodletter's attackers were practically liquefied by the impact. We had to lick them off the walls and floor for food."

"Well that's repulsive. Anyway, when did he get that iconic helmet of his?"

"I don't really know. The first time I saw him without it was when he was burying his daughter. I don't know why he was wasting such precious food, but—"

"She's not food, Harry."

"Of course she is. She was dead and uninfected. Perfect meal."

"No, you wanker. He buried her body because she meant the world to him. He wanted to make sure what was sacred to him would remain untouched. Y'know, give her the respect he feels she deserves. Otherwise, the one thing he loves most in the world would probably be lodged between your teeth right now."

"Oh...Aside from Jade, Kyle, Edgar, and you, I honestly don't know if there's anything else in this world I find sacred. I keep getting distracted by my hunger."

Aaron stopped in his tracks. "What the hell happened in here?" he said.

Aaron, Harry, and several other Deadmen were gathered around the entrance to the training center, according to the map. A lone humanoid robot dangled from the ceiling, tangled up in wires and cables like puppet strings. Its arms and face were splashed with blood, and multiple corpses were scattered around the training center with their heads nearly obliterated. Given the fact the blood their skulls were wading in still looked wet, they appeared to have been killed recently.

"What is that thing?" Aaron asked.

"The fang lady told me that was some kind of training dummy," Harry replied. "It was supposed to test how fast we could get our arses kicked."

Aaron raised a brow. "Who's the fang lady?"

"Some female Deadman. Cold eyes. Had some scary-looking teeth. They went through her cheeks like an ingrown toenail. But, y'know, with teeth instead of toenails."

"The Binge Eater?!" Aaron gasped.

"That's what you people called her? What the fuck kind of name is that?"

"Compared to fang lady? I'd say an improvement."

"Hey, in my defense, some of the Deadmen actually forgot how to speak English for a while. Seriously, Deadmen have absolutely shitty grammar."

Aaron ignored Harry, worried he'd start going on another tangent. He walked toward the balcony overlooking the training center. It wasn't really a balcony but rather a large glass screen on the second floor overlooking the training center. All the glass had been shattered, and piles of shards were gathered below.

"Harry, can you give me a boost?" Aaron asked, glaring at the space where the window used to be.

"Sure thing, mate," Harry replied, and the two of them walked under the opening to the second floor.

Harry clasped his hands together and held them low in front of his waist. Aaron stepped on top of Harry's hands and was quickly launched up toward the second floor, snatching the ledge of the second floor. Scrambling to find a grip, he pulled himself into the room, accidentally placing his hands down in the glass. Once he was in, he grabbed Harry's arm and lifted him to the second floor. He left behind blood smudged on Harry's hands.

"Sorry," he said, observing the cuts on his hands. "It was the glass."

"No worries," Harry replied. He then proceeded to lick the blood off his hands as if that wasn't weird to watch at all. Aaron carefully backed away from him, wishing his hands would heal faster so Harry wouldn't ask for more.

Aaron returned his view to the rest of the room. A whiteboard with a list of names written in black marker stood at the back of the room. A binder lay on a table next to the whiteboard along with some empty vials. But the most important item was the Ambrosia Log labeled 4.

"We got another one, you bloodsucking bastard," Aaron said, walking over to the table.

"That's great, that's—hey!" Harry replied, finally becoming aware of the insult.

Aaron opened up the binder and found multiple reports of what appeared to be trial runs. Each paper had a picture of a test subject along with a recorded time, number of hits and blocks, and either the word PASSED or FAILED stamped in green or red respectively. The first paper had a photo of a man with a dark brown beard and a stern expression. Next to his photo was the codename Ares. His first trial was complete in one minute and twelve seconds and consisted of seventy-two hits from the combat droid and twice as many toward the bot, resulting in a pass. His second trial, however, proved less than successful, only lasting two seconds and concluding with Ares getting his ankle shattered.

"Oh my God!" Harry exclaimed. "That's Bloodletter!"

A lightbulb lit up in Aaron's head. He knew the man in that picture looked familiar, but the fact that he actually had color in his eyes—two surprisingly radiant, light brown eyes—and no grey in his hair made it hard to connect the dots. He appeared to be full of determination, as if he was prepared to complete some lifelong goal. But now, as Bloodletter, he only appeared to be cold and monstrous whenever he was without his helmet.

"So he was Ares," Aaron concluded. "You knew him even before you turned?"

"Yeah, but I don't remember anything about our interactions," Harry replied. "He only answered a few of my questions, but then he would just ignore me or threaten me."

"What kind of questions did you ask?"

"His name, this place, how did his powers work, and a couple others. But he refused to answer anything related to our creation or his past. I had to research this Ambrosia Project stuff on my own."

Then Aaron asked a question he wanted to ask for a while already but felt too uncomfortable to do it earlier. "Are those the same clothes you wore when you woke up here?"

Harry looked down at his shirt. "Nah, mate. It used to be a light blue jumpsuit, but it fell off after all this blood got on it. Bloodletter actually had to force me into these clothes. Well...after he was done changing as well."

Awkward silence occurred due to Aaron being disturbed by the thought of Bloodletter forcing Harry to change. "Hey, should we listen to the recording now or later after we've found all of them?" he asked quickly to change the subject.

Harry scratched his head for a moment. "Yeah, just wait 'till we get all of them."

Aaron chuckled. "It'll be like a movie marathon."

"What's a movie?" Harry asked.

Then all the lights in the training center went out. The sounds of clanging metal echoed through the room, like if someone was constantly dropping sheets of iron on the floor. Every couple of clanging noises would be followed by a messy, wet-sounding crunch along with a thud. Something must've been killing the Deadmen around the area.

The lights flickered back to life, and Aaron and Harry found themselves back in the training center's overlook. However, Harry displayed something Aaron never saw in him before. Fear.

"Aaron," he said cautiously.

"Yeah?"

"Where did the robot go?"