Amon’s mories were fractured, like shards of glass scattered across ti.
He rembered the roar of engines, the vibration of his fighter jet beneath him, the endless drills of the airbase...
He had been a pilot for fifteen years, proud and disciplined, trained to strike from the skies.
But when the Zombie Apocalypse began, the airbase had already been compromised.
The hangars were crawling with the infected, the runways blocked by wreckage and corpses. No fighter jets ever lifted off.
Only a handful of helicopters managed to escape with their blades cutting through the chaos.
Amon and a few of his brothers had been left behind.
He recalled the desperate firefights, the dwindling ammunition, the screams of his friends as they turned into monsters. He rembered the mont when his rifle clicked empty, when the swarm closed in, and when even his fellow soldiers, n he had trained with, laughed with, lunged at him with dead eyes and gnashing teeth.
He had been seconds away from being devoured.
Then the fog ca...
A thick, unnatural mist rolled across the base, swallowing everything.
The zombies froze before they could touch him, and their movents were suspended as though ti itself had halted. Amon then felt himself pulled into the haze, his body numbed and his mind was drifting. It felt like he had been drugged.
He didn’t know how long he remained there. Months? Years? Decades? Ti lost aning. He was unanimated, trapped in stillness. Yet within the fog, he heard a mysterious voice...
"Follow the Foreign Survivors... they will end the Apocalypse."
The voice was neither male nor female, but vast and resonant, echoing in his soul.
Soon, the fog granted him clarity, sharpening his senses, refining his skills. He learned of the System, the strange guiding force that empowered Survivors.
He understood that his talents as a pilot, a soldier, and a demolitions expert were not gone, they had been preserved and quantified into the so-called Survivor Skills and they waiting for the day he would be called again.
And then, the pull ca...
The fog released him.
***
"Haa..."
Amon gasped as air filled his lungs once more. He staggered forward, blinking against the sudden brightness. The scent of saltwater hit him and it was sothing he really missed.
He looked up and saw towering gates, banners fluttering, and beyond them the bustle of a thriving settlent.
***.
Around him, there were other figures stirred, each erging from the fog’s grasp. He recognized them instantly. They were soldiers from his old base, n and won he had fought beside, though never closely. Their faces were familiar, etched into his mory from drills and missions.
A female voice rang out ahead, filled with awe.
"Wow... These are twenty Master Recruits? They all look cool. Wait, they’re all soldiers?"
Another voice answered, equally impressed. "Yes... they all look like soldiers."
"Amazing..."
Amon turned, scanning the group ahead before turning to those around him...
Nineteen others stood with him, all clad in military bearing... He wasn’t close to them, but he knew them. They had been part of the sa dood base. And now, they were here.
An introduction followed.
Officials explained that this was Blue Haven Shelter, one of the domains owned by Shane, a Foreign Survivor. The words carried weight.
Amon had heard of Foreign Survivors in the whispers of the fog. They were the ones chosen to end the Apocalypse.
The recruits were then escorted inside...
"So this is the new world, huh... It feels weird... There were so advanced devices, but there weren’t any vehicles, and there seed to be limited electricity. I guess that’s not surprising, huh..." Amon muttered.
The first stop was the dical wing.
Doctors examined them thoroughly, checking for traces of infection.
Each recruit was cleared and their health confird.
Then ca the issuance of Identity Tokens. Amon felt the weight of his token in his hand, its glow marking him as a resident.
Unlike temporary visitors, he and the others were granted Resident Status imdiately, a privilege of being Shane’s direct recruits.
The dical practitioners explained the rules, the benefits, and the responsibilities. Amon listened carefully, absorbing every detail.
Then ca the listing of skills.
***
Amon stepped forward, activating the System interface. His abilities manifested in glowing text before the practitioners.
[ Firearm Mastery Lv10 (Max): A specialized skill that focuses on mastering various firearms, improving accuracy, handling, and efficiency in combat engagents... ]
[ Demolition Specialist Lv10 (Max): A specialized skill that in controlled demolitions, structural dismantling, and debris clearance to repurpose materials, clear obstacles, and secure strategic locations... ]
And finally, his most defining skill,
[ Advanced Pilot Lv10 (Max): A specialized skill that grants mastery over aerial vehicles, including fighter jets, helicopters, and drones. It improves navigation, maneuverability, and combat efficiency in airborne engagents... ]
The practitioners exchanged glances as so of them had similar skills.
***
After the evaluations, the recruits were given two days to rest and familiarize themselves with Blue Haven.
Amon was assigned to a room with three others.
The quarters were simple but clean, with sturdy beds, fresh linens, and a view of the bustling streets below. Food was plentiful... There were hot als served at fixed hours, far better than the rations he rembered from the base.
But there was more.
Survivors could earn money by working, allowing them to purchase goods in the marketplace.
Fabrics, tools, weapons, and even luxuries were available. It wasn’t just survival here, the officials here were trying to give them a better life.
"This feels great..." Amon muttered as he learned more about how the shelter operates.
He actually spent his first day exploring. He walked through the docks, where ships were being repaired and reinforced. He passed the training grounds, where super soldiers drilled in perfect formation. He saw mute builders raising walls with silent efficiency, and warden units patrolling the area.
Three days later, the 20 Master-Grade recruits assembled in the dockyard.
Shane himself appeared, and he seed to be excited!
"You will be the first crew mbers of Providence! The foundation of our naval force. The ones who will carry Blue Haven’s banner across the seas."
User Comments
0 comments from readers