Location: Urban Fringe Zone – Sector 3C, Abandoned Parking Complex
Time: 19:10 PM | Day 1 of Infection Collapse
The sun was dying behind a scorched skyline.
Crimson light spilled through the shattered windows of the upper parking deck, casting the broken cars and burned concrete in hues of rust and blood. A cold breeze swept through the structure, rustling debris—paper, torn canvas, plastic bags—and carrying with it the stench of rot and gasoline.
Logan Hale stood motionless beside a rusted-out SUV, rifle cradled in his arms, staring at the horizon. The fires across the city hadn't stopped. Plumes of smoke continued to rise, pillars of black carved into the dimming sky like memorials to what once was.
He took a deep breath, his cracked lips stinging from dehydration and dried blood. His left leg still ached from earlier, though he didn't show it.
"Visibility's dropping fast," said Wraith behind him, eyes glued to a pair of salvaged binoculars. "If anything's moving in that smoke, we won't see it until it's on us."
Logan didn't answer at first. He was watching a distant overpass collapse under the weight of an overturned fuel truck. The explosion was faint—muffled by distance—but it shook the air nonetheless.
"We're staying here tonight," Logan said finally. "We can't risk another run while blind. We'll dig in."
He opened the Military Command System.
> [WAR CREDITS: 68.2]
[New Objective: Establish Forward Command Post]
– Shelter: ❌
– Supplies: ❌
– Comms: ❌
– Power Source: ❌
Time to build. The System pulsed with options.
> [Available Summons:]
– Combat Engineer – 35 WAR CREDITS
– Portable Generator – 25 WAR CREDITS
– Sandbag Fortifications – 10 WAR CREDITS (set)
– Field Radio (Short Range) – 15 WAR CREDITS
He didn't hesitate.
"Deploy Combat Engineer and a generator," he ordered aloud.
> [Summoning Initiated...]
[Engineer Codename: Hammer – Combat Engineering Corps]
[Summoning: Portable Generator Unit (M45-D)]
[Remaining WAR CREDITS: 8.2]
A brief shimmer in the air, followed by a crackle of energy. A broad-shouldered man in dusty fatigues stepped into reality like he'd always been there. He wore welding goggles perched on his forehead, a coil of wire around one shoulder, and a roll of blueprints on his back.
"Codename Hammer, reporting," he said with a low grunt. "You point. I'll build."
Logan nodded. "Start with the stairwell—we'll funnel any hostiles that way. Fortify the choke point, lay sandbags. Then set the generator and light the upper floor."
Hammer cracked his knuckles and moved with purpose. The generator blinked into place beside him—compact, military-issue, battered but functional. As Hammer began setting up the wiring and sealing off side access routes, the generator sputtered to life. Fluorescent strips flickered across the concrete pillars, bathing the rooftop in pale, ghostly light.
The structure now had a pulse again.
Logan exhaled slowly.
> [Temporary Safe Zone Established – Tier I]
[Passive WAR CREDIT Generation: +1.0/hr]
Wraith walked up beside him. "Better than nothing."
"Barely," Logan said. "But we can make this work."
They began descending the concrete spiral ramp to the second level—partially collapsed, but still accessible. Their boots echoed through the vacant levels, disturbing rats and trailing water. The deeper they went, the darker it got.
On the second level, they passed two burned-out sedans, a pile of clothing, and what looked like the outline of a child drawn in dried blood.
"Movement," Wraith whispered, weapon raised.
Logan saw it too—inside a delivery van with its side doors cracked open. A figure, crouched low.
He motioned for Wraith to circle while he approached.
The figure snapped up—a girl, maybe 17 or 18, swinging a bloodied metal pipe wildly.
Logan caught the pipe mid-arc, pain sparking through his hand as metal struck bone.
"Easy!" he barked. "Not infected!"
The girl froze, tears and dirt streaking her face, eyes wide with panic. Her clothes were torn, one shoe missing. Her lips trembled as she lowered the pipe.
"I thought you were one of them," she whispered.
Wraith lowered his rifle behind her, nodding. "She's clean."
Logan let go of the pipe and took a step back. "Name."
"Sofia," she said. "I—I've been hiding here since the morning."
Logan's jaw tightened. "You're lucky."
"No. I'm not."
She looked like she was about to cry but held it in with a sharp inhale.
"I watched my brother get torn apart in front of me," she said, voice cracking. "Then I ran. I've been hearing… things. The infected—they're talking now. Some of them… act like they remember."
That stopped Logan cold.
"What do you mean?"
"I saw one. A cop, I think. Still had his badge. He was dragging a dead man toward a barricade like he was setting up a checkpoint. He kept saying, 'Hold the perimeter. Hold the perimeter.' Over and over."
Wraith looked at Logan, unsettled. "That's not normal behavior."
"No, it's tactical," Logan muttered.
Sofia wasn't done.
"Another one… he moved like a soldier. Took cover behind a bus and ambushed two survivors with a fire axe. They screamed, and he didn't even flinch."
Memory retention. Maybe muscle memory. Or worse—fragments of training still operating on instinct. That meant they weren't just dealing with infected civilians anymore. They were dealing with combatants.
"We're taking her with us," Logan decided.
Sofia's eyes widened. "I can fight if I have to."
"You're not fighting. You're surviving. Stay close and quiet."
Back on the rooftop, Hammer had finished building a sandbag choke point around the stairwell. Wires from the generator snaked across the floor to a portable power grid box. He was now assembling a folding table and rolling out a map of the sector, looted from a destroyed police cruiser.
Logan brought Sofia a sealed MRE and tossed her a thermal blanket. "Eat. Sleep if you can."
She didn't thank him, just nodded and sat down near the humming generator. The orange light softened her features. She looked young again—just a girl, not another survivor.
Logan stepped aside and stared out over the city. His HUD blinked.
> [WAR CREDITS: 9.2]
[Next Objective: Hold Position Until 06:00]
[Threat Level: Escalating]
Night had fallen.
The infected would come now—not just the mindless ones, but maybe worse. The remnants of men who remembered uniforms, formations, weapons.
And Logan knew that tonight, they'd test his defenses—and his command.