The delay was also annoying it. The implant in its head pulsed insistently. That kept it focused. But when it couldn't complete an objective, it was like an itch. Inside everything. It hated that feeling.

As soon as the human said 'yes', it was moving. Toward the offices, a low, densely packed field of cubicles and dead bodies in conference rooms and infected that had stumbled out to the surrounding corridors to seek more blood. They increased their pace, ranging ahead of the human, hunting. Completing their objective. Making the itching subside.