July 25, 2012
The great wall of the Dragon Republic has been completed. Unbelievable—only two months of construction. The media still mocks them, dismissing it as a meaningless vanity project. But I can't shake this sense of dread. Something is coming.
So many classmates have fallen ill that the school canceled the final exams. Oddly enough, that feels like the only good news in weeks.
August 3, 2012
Summer break has emptied the campus. Everyone else went home, but I decided to stay and earn money through part-time work. Safer here, too. The city feels increasingly dangerous, riots and violence breaking out more frequently.
I refuse to go anywhere crowded, especially the train station.
But today, I saw soldiers moving in—an entire battalion stationed right here at the university. They claim it's for "training exercises."
Why here of all places? Why on campus?
August 12, 2012
The virus has mutated. Infected people are no longer patients—they're walking corpses. Zombies.
The military is already mobilized, purging infected cities with force. A 24-hour curfew has been declared. Anyone found outside is shot on sight.
My premonition was right all along.
Ironically, the Dragon Republic now stands as the world's model. Every foreign voice that mocked them has fallen silent. Too late.
To hell with "herd immunity." The herd is gone. All that remains is the tide of the dead.
August 25, 2012
Or maybe it's the 26th. I've lost track of the days. It doesn't matter anymore.
The university has become humanity's last bastion. My decision to stay turned out to be salvation—I was among the first residents of the shelter. Beneath the sports field lies an enormous air-raid bunker, something I never knew existed.
Every day, thousands of desperate survivors claw at the gates outside the walls, begging to be let in. I pity them, but I can't bring myself to wish them entrance. If even one infected breaches these walls, we're finished.
September 29, 2012
The virus has accelerated mutation, twisting plants and insects alike. They grow unnaturally fast, grotesque and deadly.
Zombies are child's play compared to this. Mutant flora and insects are humanity's true nightmare.
And now… burrowing monsters have emerged from beneath the earth, creatures that revive even after being killed.
Our main forces are gone. Entire armies wiped out in days.
The weapons humanity once boasted about mean nothing now. In the face of these monsters, tanks, guns, even missiles are scraps of metal.
To make matters worse, the influx of refugees has ravaged our supplies. Food is running out. Water recycling is breaking down. Even if the surface beasts never find us, it's only a matter of time before we starve in here.
October 12, 2012
Another soldier put a bullet through his skull today.
Crime skyrockets in the shelter. Every night echoes with the screams of women. This place is unraveling.
I've had enough. Rumors say the armory still holds three fully loaded Armed Mech Suits. We're planning to steal them and fight our way out.
May fortune favor me.
November 7, 2012
The shelter is gone. Overrun by mutant tunneling worms.
I escaped with a single Armed Mech Suit, but the world above…
This is no longer our world.
The journal ended there. The final page, stained in blood along with the cover, marked the end of its author. Whatever he saw in his last moments went unspoken.
Lucas Kane flipped the last page with a grim expression.
The truth was clear—zombies stood at the very bottom of this new food chain. Above them lurked terrors far deadlier.
He clenched his fist. I need to grow stronger. Fast.
If he couldn't even handle mutated zombies, what would happen in thirty days when far worse creatures came for him?
His thoughts drifted to the walls—fortresses like those the Dragon Republic had built. Could such places serve as long-term sanctuaries?
And what of the Armed Mech Suits? The journal claimed one had been crushed the moment it surfaced, which meant the monsters outside dwarfed even such machines.
But something else caught his attention: the air-raid bunker beneath Sunhaven University's sports field.
Food, weapon caches, stationed soldiers—it was a treasure trove. If he could seize those supplies, his efficiency in killing zombies would skyrocket.
Of course, the risk was monumental.
The campus teemed with undead, perhaps even horrors beyond the Mutant Type-II zombies he had already faced. Charging in blind was suicide.
Unless… he found a way to scout it safely first.
Just then, his communicator chimed. Jessica Moore's message popped up:
Still awake, Lucas?
Not yet. Why?
Someone just tried trading something rare for a longbow. A drone with an HD camera and a remote console. I wasn't sure if you'd need it, but I've never seen such an item on the market before. Thought I should ask you first.
Lucas's eyes lit up. A drone?
It was exactly what he needed. With aerial surveillance, he could map the entire sports field, chart zombie clusters, and plan with precision.
Perfect. I can use it, he replied.
Alright then, I'll haggle a bit more with her! Jessica answered, followed by a cheeky "OK" gesture.
Moments later, another message arrived:
She finally gave me her bottom line. She looks desperate, not many resources left. The trade is: one Drone with HD Camera, one Drone Control Console, and three Energy Cores.
Lucas nodded in approval. Jessica's negotiating skills were impressive.
Energy Cores were nearly as valuable as food and water. For her to part with three meant this was no casual deal.
Deal. I'll forge you a batch of Precision Longbows. You go handle the trade directly.
He crafted twenty bows in a single breath and handed ten over to Jessica.
Take these. If you sell out, just come back for more.
Jessica giggled. You're letting me handle the transaction directly? Not worried I'll pocket them for myself?
Lucas raised an eyebrow. Would you?
Of course not! Don't underestimate me, she huffed, pretending to be offended.
He smirked. That's what I thought.
You… you're too sly! she shot back, then quickly changed the subject. Anyway, I'll get to it. Goodnight!
Lucas frowned slightly. Strange. Whenever he said "goodnight," Jessica never returned the words.
She always ended with "bye."
He shook his head. A peculiar woman indeed.