The Master gives a speech

A/N: Got back home from my foreign trip and got immediately swamped by work, but here is the second half that would have made the last chapter complete last time. I am also happy to note that I should have more for writing over the next 2 weeks, so I am planning to binge-write my way through the action section of this arc soon. I hope you enjoy the ride to come, and until then, here is this one.

Michael's POV

The weight of Foreman's words settled in your chest like a stone in still water, radiating ripples you couldn't quite name. You looked out at the assembled strike team: Allen checking his breaching hammer with practiced hands, Emily and Jonathan standing shoulder to shoulder with their rifles slung loose, Mills reviewing a tablet with the drone feed, and the others scattered around the pool deck, gear laid out on folding tables like offerings to the god of preparation. Amelia's silhouette was already visible at the window facing Vista Nova Tower, her scope glinting in the late afternoon light, while Vanders had climbed to the rooftop with her rifle cased and ready.

You took a deep breath. The speech you'd rehearsed in your head felt like sand slipping through your fingers, too granular, too formless. So you let it go. You simply opened your mouth and let the truth of what you believed spill out.

"I'm not going to stand here and tell you this won't be dangerous," you said, your voice carrying across the pool deck. "Because it will be. We're walking into a building full of mindless things that want to tear us apart. But that's exactly why we're doing this tonight and not waiting for them to come to us."

You saw a few heads nod. Allen paused his hammer checks and looked up.

"We're not just clearing zombies. We're expanding what we can do, what we have to work with. Every apartment we clear, every tool we pull out of that building, every room we secure is another option for us. Another resource. Another place to put people when we find them." You paused, and the corner of your mouth tugged upward. "And well-defended real estate in a collapsed economy? That's going to be worth a hell of a lot more than whatever the housing market was charging before all this started."

A few chuckles rippled through the group. Jonathan grinned, and you caught Emily elbowing him in the ribs, a smirk on her face. The laughter broke the tension just enough.

"The more we build now," you continued, "the better we thrive later. That's the whole game. We consolidate, we strengthen, and we make sure every single person here is using their skills and talents to pull in the same direction: towards a path that will make us more self-sustainable in the future, not just for themselves, but for all of us. Because when we're stronger as a group, that strength comes back to each one of you. It protects you. It feeds you. It gives you a future worth fighting for."

You let the words hang for a moment.

"That means jumping into danger tonight. I won't pretend otherwise. But I trust the plan we've built. I trust the officers carrying it out." Your gaze swept across Mills, then up toward the rooftop where Vanders will take a sniping position. "And I trust every new recruit standing here, ready to prove what they can do. Mindless enemies can't get creative. But you can. So go out there, be creative, and come back in one piece. That's an order."

Silence stretched for one heartbeat, then two. And then a few claps broke out, joined by cheers that bounced off the pool walls. Mills cut through it with a sharp wave of her hand.

"Can it before the undead can hear you!" she barked, but when her eyes found yours, she smiled and gave a single, satisfied nod. The approval hit you somewhere warm and steady.

You stepped away from the table and walked over to Foreman, who was already shrugging into her patrol rig, a rifle slung across her back. She glanced at you, and the smile she wore was brighter than the one she'd given you earlier.

"Not bad, Lord Commander," she said softly as she used the more formal title you had mentioned you were going to strive to earn in this new chaotic world with an earnest expression. "Don't worry, victory loves preparation, and we have solid plans by now. So, as long as there are no unexpected surprises that ambush us from outside the building, I am confident that this strike team will be capable of gradually securing every floor."

You nodded. "On that note, I will be sure our reserve personnel patrol at the entrance of the barricades, stay sharp, and have Nicholas Barnes use one of his drones to keep an eye on the street downhill in case any zombies wander near. But I would like you to check in through the radio once you are done clearing each floor before climbing the stairs to move on to the next one, just so that we can take a moment to verify with the drone feeds on the windows in the floor above and to check with Foreman to see if there may be a horde too close for comfort, as in that case, we may abort going further upstairs to have the team back in the barricades in case we desperately need reinforcements. No need to wipe them all out in one go if the absence of most of the best fighters ends up getting the rest of us overrun.

She nodded before saluting in response. "Sir, yes, sir."

You took a long, deep breath. "Well, that's it then. Take care, Lieutenant. And good luck.

And then, she walked away, her strike team starting to file out toward the stairwell, the operational hum of preparation filling the space where your speech had been. You just hoped the plan and the words were enough to avoid any lethal bites.