Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

3 Days Later — Overwatch Strategic Map Room

The war map of Luzon was no longer red.

It was scarred.

Cratered circles bloomed across the landscape like burn marks on skin—Clark, Lucena, Calamba, Olongapo. Each site marked with a thin white ring labeled "N-ZONE." Former cities, now sterilized zones of heat, silence, and death. But no movement. No Bloom activity. No more Goliaths. No more hordes.

Just cold ashes.

Thomas stood at the head of the holographic table, arms folded. His jaw was tight. Sleepless. Focused.

He didn't look away as new feeds streamed in from Reaper One-One and Two-Three, flying high over San Fernando.

A black mass had begun moving again. Tens of thousands. A Bloom crawler nest, grown from the ruins of old government buildings. Civilian evacuation had failed days ago. The northern corridor was gone.

"Ready another package," Thomas said.

Phillip blinked. "You're sure? That close to Pangasinan?"

"I've already seen the projections. Winds are favorable. Fallout will disperse west over the mountains, not toward population centers. The city's lost. If we don't act now, we'll have another Goliath-scale threat in a week."

Marcus entered with a fresh tablet in hand. "Logistics confirm another W76-2 available. One cruise-capable stealth missile ready. Launch window: 26 minutes. Optimal detonation height: 280 meters."

Thomas swiped to the targeting interface. The target zone glowed red, saturated with heat signatures. No humans. Just infected.

He focused on the crosshair.

[Confirm Target Lock – San Fernando Nest (Bloom Class C)]

[Estimated Yield Effect: 1.8km Primary Kill Zone / 3.2km Radiation Scatter]

[Cost: 500,000 Blood Coins]

[Deploy? Y/N]

He pressed YES.

2:51 PM — Luzon Airspace

The second JASSM-ER howled into the sky.

Like a ghost it climbed, invisible to radar, hugging the terrain as it sliced through the mountain air. As it neared the city outskirts, it rose silently, banks turning, wings adjusting.

Reaper drones tracked every movement. Below, the Bloom nest roiled like a sea of flesh, tendrils pulsing through ruined malls and hospital buildings.

The missile reached apex.

The screen read:

[Detonation in 3… 2… 1…]

A new sun rose over San Fernando.

White-hot. Blinding.

The bloom died before it could scream.

Everything in a radius of two kilometers ceased to exist—converted into a flash of energy, vapor, shock, and wind. Cars melted. Walls crumbled. Creatures burned alive mid-step.

A black stem of smoke followed.

Then silence again.

3:11 PM — MOA Complex

Thomas stood with both hands on the table, watching the thermal feed fade to grayscale.

[+1,384,000 Blood Coins Gained]

Phillip whistled. "That's a lot of dead Bloom."

Marcus leaned in. "Still no retaliation. No screamers. No counter-signals."

"They're learning we can bite back," Thomas muttered. "And I want them afraid."

He turned to the system screen.

[Tactical Armaments] > [Strategic-Class Weaponry]

[Stored Inventory: 2x W76-2 | 1x AGM-86B | 1x Modified HIMARS Pod]

At this pace, every nuke paid for itself.

Fifty coins per infected.

That meant every city held wealth buried beneath its streets. Not in gold. Not in supplies. But in kill counts. System-confirmed eliminations.

And Thomas was the only one with access to the Weapon System.

The fire, indeed.

5 Days Since First Strike — Nueva Ecija

The convoy moved at midnight.

Shadow Teams Echo and Delta rode fast in four JLTVs along the ghost roads of Central Luzon. Their mission: confirm drone readings of a Hive variant in the ruins of Cabanatuan. The last Overwatch patrol in the area never checked back in.

At 12:43 AM, they arrived at the designated perimeter.

Phillip's voice crackled in through live relay. "What are you seeing?"

Lieutenant Velez responded. "Jesus… it's a graveyard. Buildings covered in bloom matter. The whole damn plaza's crawling. Easily over a hundred thousand infected."

The drone confirmed his count. Hive tendrils curled out from the ground and rooftops, like veins reaching for the moon.

Inside the command center, Thomas was already preparing the screen.

This was no longer isolated.

This was an infestation vector.

He opened the weapon list.

[W76-2 Tactical Warhead]

[Install on Delivery System: Tomahawk Block IV – Ground-Based Launcher]

[Estimated Range: 1,600km | CEP: 10m]

[Deploy From: Mobile Pad Bravo – Zambales Ridge]

He selected the launcher.

Paid the cost.

The screen blinked.

[Missile Deployed: ETA to Target: 12 Minutes]

In the dark hills of Zambales, a mobile launcher locked into position. The Tomahawk burst from its tube and disappeared into the sky.

The troops in Cabanatuan had already pulled out by then—retreating twenty clicks south to safe terrain.

1:03 AM — Cabanatuan

The warhead dropped like divine wrath.

The bloom-covered church, the mall, the infected that had gathered for some unspeakable mass—erased.

No warning. No mercy.

Just cleansing flame.

The impact crater was wider than the plaza, and hot enough to glass pavement. What little remained of the Hive's strange towers evaporated. Organic material instantly carbonized. The air itself caught fire.

By the time the pressure wave reached the jungle beyond, nothing living was left within three kilometers.

1:14 AM — MOA Command

[+2,218,000 Blood Coins Gained]

Phillip leaned back, stunned. "That many? Just in one city?"

Thomas nodded. "They're nesting faster than we thought. We're behind. But this helps."

Marcus added, "We've got at least three more critical zones to clear. Tuguegarao, Naga, and Iligan are all showing similar massing behavior. Probably another Hive network."

Thomas didn't hesitate.

"We schedule back-to-back strikes. No breathing room."

He turned again to the system.

[Weapon Queue — Batch Loadout Selected]

W76-2 (Naga Nest) – Cruise Missile

W76-2 (Tuguegarao Cluster) – Cruise Missile

W76-2 (Iligan Shore Hive) – Stealth ALCM

Estimated Cost: 1.5M Blood Coins

Expected Return: 3–5M Blood Coins (Kill Est.)

Confirm Strike Sequence?

[YES]

7 Days Since First Strike — Global Fallout

Above the stratosphere, dead satellites from a world that no longer mattered still blinked.

NORAD ghost stations auto-logged the unregistered nuclear detonations. AI protocols flagged the patterns. Old war programs ticked alive again in dark bunkers far away.

But no generals remained. No presidents. No nuclear briefings.

Only automatic warnings.

Only echoes.

Back on Earth, Thomas stood before a map that had begun to change.

Not just because of nukes. But because of what came after.

Where once red bled across the screen, now there were white zones—cold, sterilized, quiet. No activity. No survivors.

But also no threats.

He tapped the map softly.

"We take back one city at a time."

Phillip looked at him. "And then what?"

Thomas's eyes narrowed.

"Then we build."