Meanwhile, with those on patrol outside the building...

A/N: Glad to be able to keep my new daily update streak alive yet again with this chapter now that I have more time to spare this week. Not sure how much longer I will be able to keep it up but many of you seem to be appreciating it after all the recent, longer time gaps in between chapters, so enjoy it while it lasts, I guess. And if you do, comments are very much appreciated.

We switch back to Michael's POV for this one, but we will return to see what the strike team is up to on the very next one. Happy reading!

Michael's POV

You checked the time as you stood beside Sergeant Foreman, both of you leaning against the makeshift barricade of a couple of overturned cars that crashed and were abandoned on the first day of this madness that partially sealed off the street leading up to the hill, forcing any potential zombie or raider to approach from a bottleneck you could target with sniper rounds and even machine guns if need be. And when you noticed it was 10 am, you couldn't help but frown a bit as you examined your Victorinox wristwatch that your father gifted you before he died.

More than once, you have had to deal with mild mocking for keeping it so well maintained, given that in a world as digitalized and full of smart devices as the one you grew up in, old-school watches felt a bit obsolete technologically speaking. But even if you didn't regard it as a valued keepsake by now, you always did appreciate the great care and precision that came into the elaborate craftsmanship of the piece, so you kept using it because you liked it and out of habit. And now, that simpler thing on your wrist that used to get a few laughs out of your buddies allowed you to keep time straight in your head as you planned ahead even with most modern digital infrastructure; more common smart devices used to tell time in shambles.

"A cautionary tale about the potential perils of developing overdependence on complicated things that are complicated to maintain in times of crisis, I suppose," you thought to yourself as you reflected. "Good thing I was able to change the battery to a new and improved model recently, since according to my last visit to their store, it should last me about 6 more years still."

And that line of thought, in turn, gave you pause as you contemplated how much things have changed over the past 2 weeks alone, making you wonder how much further your life would have changed by the time your watch ran out of power.

You scratched your chin in deep thought. Six years...if you were even still alive by that point, which was no guarantee given all the dangers ahead, there was a chance that you could remain the Lord and Master of a far more expanded domain by then. Especially if you were still able to expand your group and possessions with that strange marker and take advantage of the opportunities it granted you to improve the odds your people would prosper more than many other groups may be able to manage in this new post-apocalyptic world you all found yourselves in. And while a part of you had always wanted a big family eventually, more and more it was dawning on you that you had a golden opportunity many men with such dreams would kill to have, what with such a large and still growing harem of beautiful women that you could ensure would get along really well with each other as well.

And so it was that this thought made you imagine how many kids you could plausibly have in 6 years time, their mothers working together to help you raise and protect them with love and care. It was, you had to admit, a vision that felt increasingly appealing to you when you allowed yourself to dwell on such thoughts while you weren't focusing on other things.

But in order to make that vision a more plausible reality and help do your bit to repopulate your little corner of the world after such bloody chaos, you also had to do your best to improve your group's overall prosperity and defensive situation so that you wouldn't fear that you were dooming your unborn children to a hellish existence. There had to be light at the end of this post-apocalyptic tunnel. You just had to do your best to make sure they were in the best possible position to endure and keep at it while they bought enough time to endure until the end of this nightmare somehow. And so, you clenched your fists on reflex at the feeling of determination that rushed through your veins and continued walking through the perimeter.

So far, the patrol had been quiet. Too quiet, almost. The kind of silence that made your skin prickle with the awareness that the dead were out there somewhere, shuffling through the ruins of the city, waiting for something to draw them toward fresh meat. Eventually, you regrouped with Sergeant Foreman as your patrolling paths intersected and decided to catch her up.

"Lieutenant Mills reported in about 10 minutes ago," you said, turning to face her.

She stood at parade rest, her posture immaculate even in the midst of her duties as she looked at you. "Anythingt interesting to report, sir?"

"They cleared the social area floor of Vista Nova," You explained. The pool, locker rooms, gym, the whole deck. Encountered a few zombies and then a few more, but nothing they couldn't handle."

Foreman nodded, a small, professional smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "No casualties then?"

"None. And they found a survivor, actually. A woman named Allison Smith. Her father's the maintenance technician for the building. He left this morning to look for help and hasn't come back. They're clearing floor by floor to reach him."

"Maintenance technician," Foreman repeated, the gears in her logistical mind already turning. You could practically see the calculations happening behind her eyes. "That's valuable. Someone who knows the bones of a building, the wiring, the plumbing. If he accepts our offer of asylum, he could be a significant asset to the community."

You grunted in agreement. "Assuming he makes it out of the building alive."

"Assuming that," Foreman agreed.

She paused then, a hint of something speculative creeping into her tone. "Unless this is another case where you already own him and his daughter, and they just don't know it yet."

Your fingers stilled on the rifle grip as you tried to school your facial features. The thought had crossed your mind, of course. It always did now, whenever you encountered new people. The marker in your pocket almost felt like it was capable of whispering to you with constant reminders of the power you held and the responsibility that you imposed upon yourself for deciding to use it. You remembered the way Emma Cruz had reacted when you'd claimed her and her daughters, the clinical fascination in her eyes as she'd suddenly understood that, somehow, she had always belonged to you, even if she hadn't realized it until the moment the marker touched her skin.

It was a strange thing, the way the claiming worked. It didn't feel like brainwashing, not exactly. It felt more like a revelation, a sudden and complete understanding of a truth that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface. When you wrote your name on someone, they didn't become puppets or automatons. They became yours but clearly kept the core of their personality traits unless you actively decided to alter them in some way. And it looked like they knew it, deep in their bones, as surely as they knew the sun rose in the east.

"Maybe," you said, keeping your voice carefully neutral. You glanced at Foreman, meeting her steady gaze as you decided to make something up to try to make it easier for her to rationalize his power and authority. "I mean, I can usually tell by instinct when I see someone if I'm their rightful owner. Even if they don't realize it yet themselves. It's like a...knowing, a pull of sorts."

You frowned a bit, realizing that this really wasn't your best attempt at deception, but it sounded plausible enough for now, and Foreman had no reason to doubt you. "If that is indeed the case and they decide to stay with us, I'll help them understand."

Foreman tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her features. "And if that's not the case?"

You shrugged. "Then I don't own them, and whether they want to stay and join our group for safety reasons anyway or be on their way will be up to them. The world as we know it ended, Elizabeth, and I won't blame people if they are really keen to go look for their loved ones in the hopes they are still breathing."

You sighed slightly as Foreman glanced away to focus once more on the road. That was technically a half-truth, and you knew it. If Allison and her father decided they wanted to leave, you could let them go. But if you claimed them first and spoke a few words about the rules for good measure, they wouldn't want to leave. They'd want to stay, to become part of your growing community, to contribute however they could.

And that was the real decision you'd have to make, wasn't it? Whether to claim them the moment you met them, or to give them the chance to choose on their own. The pragmatic part of your mind, the part that had kept you alive through the open stages of all this chaos and death, told you that claiming them was the safest option. New recruits were easier to handle when they were already yours, their loyalties cemented by the marker's apparently psychic influence. They'd work together harmoniously, without infighting or suspicion, and they'd be more productive members of the community because of it.

The idealistic part of you, however, the part that still remembered the young man you'd been before the apocalypse, wanted to believe that people deserved a choice. Given the chance, they'd see the value in your community and join willingly, after which you would feel less guilty about claiming them then.

Time would tell which part of you won...

Before you could dwell on it further, the sound of footsteps on gravel drew your attention. You turned to see three figures approaching from the direction of the apartment buildings, and a small smile spread across your face as you recognized them.

Kira moved with the fluid grace of the gym trainer she'd once been, her athletic frame silhouetted against the golden light of the setting sun. Beside her, her beloved girlfriend Laurel walked with a sway in her hips that was impossible to miss, her dark hair catching the breeze as the beautiful Latina shot you a look that made your stomach tighten. And behind them, slightly more hesitant, came Divya, her tall, curvy figure looking almost out of place in the rugged landscape of the apocalypse, her brown eyes glancing around warily as she took in the barricade and the road beyond.

"Thought we'd make ourselves useful," Kira called out as they drew closer, her voice carrying a note of dry amusement. "Figured you two could use some extra eyes on the road."

You felt the reflexive stir of lust at the sight of Laurel and Kira, memories of the threesome you'd shared with them flooding back in vivid, heated detail. The way Laurel had moaned beneath you, the way Kira had watched with dark, hungry eyes before joining in, the way they'd both eagerly accepted your claim on them. Your body responded to the memory as your cock hardened, and you had to consciously force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Appreciate the initiative," you said, keeping your voice steady. "More eyes on the perimeter is never a bad thing."

Laurel stepped forward, closing the distance between you until she was close enough that you could smell the faint scent of her perfume, something floral and sweet that seemed utterly incongruous with the world you now lived in. A slow, smoldering smile curved her lips, and she reached out to rest a hand on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over the fabric of your shirt.

"Well," she said, her voice dropping to a low, intimate register. "I can't very well let you get eaten by zombies now, can I Master? Not when you made me a promise."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "A promise?"

"Mmm." Laurel's smile widened, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke loud enough for it to not count as a whisper. "You said you'd fulfill my wish to be bred by you. To give me a baby so I can start a family with Kira, the way I've always wanted." She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze burning with a possessive intensity. "I'm holding you to that, Master. So I need you alive."

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Foreman raise a single, perfectly arched eyebrow. Her expression was carefully neutral, but there was a glint of something in her eyes. Amusement, perhaps. Or curiosity.

Divya, standing just behind Laurel and Kira, made a small choking sound. You glanced at her and saw that her cheeks had flushed a deep crimson, her gaze dropping to the ground as if she couldn't quite bring herself to meet your eyes. The former porn star, who had spent years performing explicit acts on camera for paying audiences in order to pay for her University degree, was blushing like a schoolgirl at the mention of your promise to impregnate Laurel.

The irony wasn't lost on you as you found yourself grinning despite the awkwardness of the moment. It wasn't as if you'd intended to keep the promise a deep, dark secret, but you also hadn't expected Laurel to be quite so open about it in front of Foreman and Divya. Then again, in all the time you have known her, Laurel had never exactly been shy about what she wanted. It was one of the things you were growing to like about her.

"Fair enough," you said, and chuckling, you reached up to cup her cheek, running your thumb along the smooth line of her jaw. "I suppose that's motivation enough to stay alive."

Laurel beamed at you, leaning into your touch like a cat seeking warmth. "I thought you'd see it that way."

Kira rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. "She's been talking about it nonstop since you made that promise last night. I think she's more excited about the baby than she's ever been about anything in years."

"Can you blame me?" Laurel shot back, not moving from your side. "I've wanted a family for so long. But ever since I realized my pussy only ever got wet for women, I feared I would never get the chance. But now that I have finally meet my one true Master...my one true handsome Master..." She said in seductive emphasis as she looked up at you, her expression softening. "Now everything feels possible and I can allow myself to hope and dream."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest that went beyond just arousal at her words. These women, all of them, were your people now. Your responsibility. Your family, in a way you'd never quite experienced before. The marker had brought them to you, had made them believe that they belonged to you, but the feelings that were growing between you felt real. Genuine. You cared about them more and more, not just because they were claimed but because they were good people who trusted you to keep them safe.

And you aimed to reward their trust in order to earn it, and the other rewards you meant to claim for yourself.

"I'm really, really glad to have met you," you finally said when you could find the words.

And you totally meant it.

Laurel smiled at your response right then, delight flashing through her gaze.

You were soon interrupted, however, when Foreman cleared her throat, her professional demeanor slipping back into place. "If we're going to continue the patrol with more eyes to spare, I suggest we move further down the barricade line. There's a vantage point near the eastern edge that will give us a clear view of the approach road."

You nodded, allowing Laurel to fall into step beside you as you followed Foreman toward the eastern edge. Kira flanked your other side, her dark eyes scanning the horizon with the trained vigilance of a former gym trainer who had learned to fight for her life. Divya brought up the rear, her earlier blush slowly fading as she focused on the task at hand.

And throughout, you became even more determined to fight for a future worthy of your children yet to be born. So, you clenched your fist and focused your eyes on the view ahead.