Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

05:30 AM — Engineering Deck, MOA Complex

The command room under Sublevel B was already humming with activity. Digital maps of old Manila sprawled across projectors, some so outdated they still marked the Manila Film Center and pre-2000 train lines. Civil engineers in Overwatch uniforms, many of them once public works volunteers, were hastily converting civilian schematics into viable combat data.

"Based on the old Metro sewer grid and LRT blueprints," said Lead Engineer Casimiro, pointing at a rapidly digitizing map, "these tunnels weave under almost every district south of Pasay. If they've spread hives through them, we could be dealing with dozens of nests—interlinked."

Thomas stood silently, arms crossed.

"Estimate time to produce a full digital model?"

"Four hours for the eastern sector. Eight if we want real-time sensor overlays."

"Do it in five," Thomas said. "Push drones, sonar, whatever we've got."

A junior analyst turned. "Sir, should we notify Echo and Shadow teams for initial probing?"

"Shadow only. Echo's still recovering from the last extraction. I want our best on this."

He turned to Rebecca, who had been reviewing comm logs on a separate console.

"We start with Libertad," she said. "That's where the Reaper pinged the last pulse."

06:45 AM — Launch Bay 2, Shadow Team Staging Area

Phillip slid a fresh magazine into his suppressed SCAR-H and locked the bolt with a crisp snap. Around him, the rest of Shadow Team prepped in silence—Ghost checked his motion scanner, Vega recalibrated her pulse radar, and Alon, the tech specialist, double-checked seismic detectors strapped to his pack.

"This feels different," Vega muttered. "Last time it was recon. This time… this feels like a search-and-destroy."

"It is," Phillip said simply. "No prisoners. No mercy. Anything growing down there, we burn."

Thomas entered the bay, now suited in his own tactical armor—sleek, dark, modified with Overwatch insignia across the chest.

"I'm going with you," he said.

Phillip frowned. "Sir—"

"Not as a leader. As a gun."

Phillip nodded.

Rebecca arrived seconds later, handing Thomas a small device. "This is a short-range jammer. It'll block any burst signal the infected might be using to coordinate. Radius of fifty meters, but it burns out in ten minutes. Use it if things get tight."

"Appreciate it."

"Bring me something I can work with," she said.

He gave her a nod before stepping into the JLTV.

07:10 AM — Tunnel Mouth, Libertad Substation

The entrance looked like something out of a forgotten war. Twisted rebar framed a partially collapsed stairwell descending into blackness. Old signage hung like shredded parchment—"LRT Line 1 – Libertad Station."

Shadow Team dismounted silently.

Ghost ran a sonar sweep. "Tunnel structure stable. Echoes clean for fifty meters. After that, it's a canyon."

They descended slowly. As the sun rose behind them, the light vanished. NVGs flicked on with muted clicks. The air grew cold, thick with mildew and rot.

Alon placed a seismic sensor on the wall and activated it. "Heartbeat-like pulses. Three-second intervals. Direction… east-northeast."

"Not good," Phillip said. "Could be a nest heartbeat. Could be something worse."

They moved deeper.

07:32 AM — Subterranean Grid Point L3

The floor changed from tile to concrete. The tunnel widened—then opened into a forgotten maintenance hub once used by sanitation crews. Pipes crisscrossed above their heads, many cracked and dripping. And at the far end…

Growth.

A web of biomass stretched across the wall like a diseased lung. Thick roots of hardened pus-pink flesh pulsed rhythmically, breathing in silence.

Alon scanned it. "It's dormant. Probably in early growth."

Thomas raised his rifle.

Ghost spoke up. "Recommend we mark it and push forward. If we torch this now, whatever's upstream will scatter."

Phillip nodded. "Mark it. Continue."

08:10 AM — Depth 120 Feet, Conduit Shaft Delta

They found the breach.

A vertical shaft descending another fifteen meters opened ahead. Windless, utterly black. But warm. A foul draft carried upward—air laced with spores.

Ghost dropped a thermal cam on a line. It fed back flickering red shadows.

"Something's down there. Big."

Phillip radioed in. "Command, this is Shadow Actual. We've found a downward breach. Possible hive node. Requesting permission to insert and purge."

Thomas looked to him.

"We go," he said before HQ could reply.

They descended.

08:28 AM — Hive Core Delta-9

The air grew thick, viscous, like walking through soup. Every surface was coated in mucosal residue. Bioluminescent fungi provided dull orange lighting. The room expanded into a chamber the size of a basketball court.

Then it moved.

The walls rippled.

They weren't alone.

Something rose from the far side. A massive stalk—like a tumor with limbs—pushed upward, groaning as it birthed another infected from a translucent sack. It tore free, howling, and immediately charged.

"Contact!"

Shadow Team opened fire. Suppressed rounds hit its chest and skull. It stumbled, then dropped—but the room kept pulsing.

"More incoming!"

Holes opened along the walls. Limbs, eyes, half-formed creatures began to emerge.

Phillip activated the jammer.

A hum filled the air.

The infected froze—screaming in confusion, unable to respond.

"Thermite!" Thomas shouted.

Vega tossed the charge. It landed at the base of the stalk.

"Fire in the hole!"

The detonation was hellish.

The hive screamed. Literally. The walls spasmed. Thomas grabbed a half-formed infected and slammed it into the muck as flames engulfed the room.

"Pull out!"

08:50 AM — Retreat to Tunnel Mouth

They sprinted.

Flame chased them—fuel lines igniting, old gas pockets detonating from the heat. The tunnel behind them collapsed in sections as support beams gave way.

"Go! Go! Go!" Phillip shouted.

They emerged into sunlight, coughing, covered in bile and soot.

Rebecca was waiting.

"You brought me something," she said.

Thomas handed her the sealed drone cam—its footage encoded with all they saw.

"I want full biological analysis. Learn how fast they grow. Learn what they're using to control the waves. And start modeling a way to collapse every tunnel within range."

Rebecca nodded and left.

09:30 AM — Strategy Deck, Command Hall

A large screen displayed the seismic aftermath of the detonation.

"Estimated three nodes connected to that chamber," the analyst said. "We may have only killed one-third of it."

Thomas exhaled.

"Then we keep going. Section by section. Until the entire grid is clean."

Sison leaned forward. "Sir, our combat engineers have a proposal. We seal the tunnels. All of them. With a city-wide seismic collapse."

"You mean… bring down the whole underground?"

"Yes. Charges along key pillars. A synchronized detonation. One button ends it."

Thomas thought for a moment.

"How many civilians do we estimate are still trapped underground?"

"Unknown. Could be dozens. Could be none."

He nodded grimly. "Begin prepping the plan. But only as a last resort."

10:00 AM — Observation Deck

The sun now bathed the MOA Complex in gold, hiding the terror beneath its feet.

Thomas stood by the railing, watching cargo trucks bring in new turret mounts. Below, Amara played quietly near the nursery, unaware of the war her parents fought beneath the surface.

Rebecca approached, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"No," he said. "But we've got a map. A target. A plan."

She nodded.

"We've bought time. Now we buy peace."

Behind them, the horizon shimmered with morning heat.

And beneath the streets of Metro Manila, the war in the tunnels continued to breathe.

Below the main levels of the MOA Complex, where the walls were thickest and the air buzzed with electricity, Reaper One-Four was being prepped. A ground crew worked fast, locking in a fresh payload of seismic probes, sonar relays, and high-frequency audio beacons designed to flush out tunnel-born entities. A specialized bio-sensor pod—newly fitted—clicked as it synced with the operating system.

Thomas arrived just in time to watch the drone get wheeled into position.

"We've upgraded the thermal sensors," the drone tech reported. "It can now track fluctuations in biomass growth, even behind a meter of concrete."

Rebecca nodded, joining him. "If something's spreading again… we'll see it."

They both stared as the drone's turbines roared to life, lifting the sleek frame off its resting mount. Within seconds, it vanished into the sky, banking west toward another known hive access point near Roxas Boulevard.

"We're not done," Thomas murmured. "Not by a long shot."

10:40 AM — Nursery Observation Hall

Later, Thomas stood beside the glass of the east wing, looking into the wide room where Amara lay peacefully in her crib. Rebecca joined him in silence, arms crossed.

For a few minutes, they didn't speak.

"She smiled this morning," Rebecca whispered.

Thomas looked at her.

"She looked up at me and smiled, like none of this mattered. Like there was no war."

He lowered his gaze, taking in the sight of their daughter's small, sleeping form.

"I want her to grow up not knowing any of this," he said. "I want her to play outside. To go to school. To live like a normal child, not the daughter of a soldier fighting an endless war underground."

Rebecca leaned against him.

"We'll make that world," she said softly. "Even if we have to bury everything that came before it."

10:55 AM — Command Center, MOA Complex

An alert pinged across the main console.

"Sir," said one of the technicians. "Reaper One-Four's transmitting something."

The overhead display shifted, revealing an underground chamber—far deeper than the others. Dozens of heat signatures pulsed below the surface. But what caught everyone's attention was the structure in the center.

It was circular. Metallic. Man-made.

"What is that?" Rebecca asked.

Thomas leaned forward.

"It's not part of any city plan."

Another analyst zoomed in.

"It's buried under Intramuros. Pre-war vault structure. No records. No access history."

Thomas's voice was quiet, steady.

"Send it to Engineering. I want to know what that is. And how we get to it."