Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

06:00 AM — Recon Flight Alpha, Southeast Asia Airspace.

The rising sun cast a weak orange hue across the devastated skyline of Jakarta. Ash still lingered in the upper atmosphere, painting the clouds in shades of rust and charcoal. Below, what used to be neighborhoods and roads had melted into blackened terrain—jagged and warped like cooled lava.

The drone footage streamed directly into Overwatch's command center. Flight Alpha, a modified MQ-25 drone nicknamed "Harpy One," skimmed 300 meters above the ruins, its cameras transmitting multispectral scans: no thermal signatures, no movement, no sound.

Rebecca stood beside Casimiro at the main screen in the MOA Complex. Behind them, intelligence officers monitored six other drones sweeping the former capitals of Southeast Asia.

"No airborne spores detected," Casimiro reported. "Residual radiation is stable—well within containment parameters. The detonation did its job."

Rebecca nodded. "And Bangkok?"

A new feed opened. Bangkok's once-dense canal network was now a lattice of shattered bridges and dried sludge. The biomass there had baked under nuclear fire, its bloated cysts turned into brittle crusts.

"Secondary spore pits are collapsed," said one of the analysts. "No reformation signs. We estimate full ecological deadzone within a 10-kilometer radius."

Rebecca turned to the intercom. "Signal Command. Get Thomas."

—

**06:40 AM — Office of the Commander, MOA Complex**

Thomas Estaris entered the war room with the same controlled energy he always carried—but now something was different. A resolve deeper than before.

"Status?"

"All primary targets neutralized," Rebecca replied. "Radiation maps are coming in clean. No signs of secondary biomass regrowth."

Thomas nodded, eyes scanning the holomap. Three zones pulsed yellow now—formerly red.

"Then Rainwalker moves to phase two."

He turned to Colonel Sison, who had entered behind him.

"Tell Shadow Team One to prepare for deep-field deployment. They'll land in Jakarta first. Establish a forward operating camp. We'll drop supplies via drone pod every twelve hours until secure landings are confirmed."

Sison saluted. "Understood."

"And the volunteers?"

"They're ready," Rebecca answered. "Three hundred strong. All veterans of the Manila campaign. They've seen hell and came back standing."

"Good," Thomas said. "They're going to walk through hell again."

—

13:30 PM — Mobile Command Staging Area, Clark Airstrip

The first wave of Overwatch boots hit the tarmac—Shadow Team One, accompanied by Reclaimer Platoon 3 and mobile engineers. Transport tiltrotors roared as they offloaded exo-suits, modular camp gear, and medical units.

Phillip, the field ops liaison, was already in his gear—sleek black armor with a light carbon-weave cape draped over his back. His helmet was under his arm.

"Still crazy enough to lead the first wave?" Thomas asked as he approached.

Phillip smirked. "Who else gets paid in protein bars and trauma?"

Thomas handed him a drive. "Recon data. Everything we have on post-strike Jakarta. Stay west of the East Jakarta crater. Biomass density is still highest there. Your FOB will be in the Kemayoran sector."

Phillip nodded. "Understood."

"And one more thing," Thomas added. "If you find survivors—any survivors—you bring them in. We're not just reclaiming cities. We're reminding people that someone still gives a damn."

Phillip gave a sharp nod, then turned toward the transport.

Shadow Team One loaded up. Engines screamed. Within minutes, the first wave was airborne.

—

17:00 PM — Jakarta Airspace, Southeast Sector

The tiltrotor descended cautiously over charred skyscrapers and skeletal remains of monorail lines. The once-bustling city looked like it had been swallowed by a volcano.

"Visual contact on the LZ," the pilot announced. "Smoke columns from controlled burns. Looks like the drone pods already landed."

The aircraft set down in the middle of a wide intersection cleared by prior recon drones.

"GO! GO! GO!" Phillip shouted.

Shadow Team fanned out. Engineers quickly secured the perimeter and began deploying prefab barricades and energy mesh netting. Autonomous turrets activated with high-pitched hums, scanning the air for motion.

Phillip planted the Overwatch flag in the cracked concrete. A white phoenix on black.

"FOB Kemayoran established," he reported into comms. "Radiation nominal. No infected. We're in."

—

22:00 PM — MOA Complex, Command Tower

Thomas stood alone in the upper glass corridor overlooking the bay. Manila's lights shimmered in the water below. The silence in his ears was the absence of gunfire. Of sirens. Of screams.

Rebecca entered quietly, handing him a fresh cup of tea.

"The first forward camp is operational," she said. "Phillip reports full sensor sweep—no biomass regrowth. Drones dropped another three pallets of supplies. They'll have shelter modules online by dawn."

Thomas sipped, thoughtful. "How long before we can send in the Cleaners?"

"They're on standby. We're waiting for rad levels to drop a bit more around Cholon. Bangkok is next—nest sites there are deeper."

Thomas placed the cup down and spoke quietly.

"Did we do the right thing?"

Rebecca blinked. "You mean the nukes?"

He nodded.

She looked away briefly. "I don't know. But I do know this: if we hadn't acted, there'd be no cities left to debate over. No lives. No future. We chose something ugly to stop something worse."

Thomas turned to the window. "Legacy," he murmured again.

Rebecca joined him. "Rainwalker might be our first step toward peace."

"But peace through fire," he said. "And what kind of peace is that?"

Rebecca didn't answer.

—

**Day 3 — 10:30 AM, FOB Kemayoran, Jakarta**

Phillip and Shadow Team had expanded the perimeter. The blackened husks of buildings had become anchors for Overwatch surveillance units.

Engineers had reconnected power using generators. Within 48 hours, a comm tower was operational.

Then something new happened.

"Captain!" a scout shouted, running in. "We found a survivor!"

Phillip turned sharply. "Where?"

"Old parking garage north of the crater. He's weak. Probably been surviving on rats and rainwater."

"Get medics now. And prep isolation. We don't know if he's clean."

The man, mid-30s, dehydrated, barefoot, and wrapped in filthy cloth, was barely conscious.

Phillip leaned down beside him as the medics began treating his wounds.

"What's your name?"

The man blinked slowly. "Adi…"

"You're safe now, Adi. You made it through the fire."

The man coughed. "More… there's more…"

Phillip's expression hardened. "Where?"

"Below," Adi said. "They're below the school… they never came out…"

—

Day 4 — MOA Complex, Strategy Room

"They survived," Thomas repeated. "In Jakarta. Post-strike."

Casimiro nodded. "Confirmed. Ten possible human heat signatures under a collapsed international school, 2.5 km east of the crater. Shielded from blast and radiation due to basement depth."

Thomas turned to Rebecca. "Then our policy of 'zero survivor zones' ends now."

She agreed. "If people made it through that… they deserve a second chance."

Thomas looked to the map.

"Deploy the Cleaners with humanitarian kits. Full extraction priority. If they're not infected—we bring them home."

—

Day 5 — Cholon, Ho Chi Minh City

Drone footage showed the nest zone had collapsed into a smoking crater. But cracks in the earth remained—deep chasms where the biomass had once thrived.

Colonel Sison stood beside the payload teams at the staging yard.

"Rainwalker Detachment Bravo is prepping for entry," he radioed in. "Cleaners will follow once we confirm safe tunnels. Bangkok is next."

—

Back at MOA, Nightfall

The war room remained dimly lit. But the screen had changed.

Three red zones were now yellow.

And for the first time…

A green zone appeared.

Jakarta.

Rebecca stared at it in silence.

Thomas approached.

"They made it," she said. "Not just the soldiers. The survivors. Adi and his group. They're inbound now, ETA four hours."

Thomas exhaled, something easing in his chest.

"We were right," he whispered. "We were goddamn right."

Rebecca turned. "One city at a time."

Thomas nodded. "Next up is Bangkok."

Rebecca asked, "And after that?"

He looked at the map.

Taiwan. Singapore. Hong Kong.

"Until the green spreads across the board."

And so, Operation Rainwalker advanced—through ash and blood, toward the dawn of reclamation.

The room remained quiet, but in that quiet was power. For the first time in years, the war map showed progress—tangible, undeniable progress. A single green zone, Jakarta, shone like a beacon in the darkness of Southeast Asia.

Colonel Sison entered quietly, a tablet tucked under his arm. "The survivor group just landed at Substation Echo. Ten confirmed. Six adults, four children. Clean—no infection. They'll be processed and relocated to the medical wing here."

Thomas gave a sharp nod. "Assign them a liaison. Someone who speaks Bahasa. I want them interviewed carefully. Not interrogated—welcomed."

"Already done," Sison said. "They're scared, but stable."

Rebecca stepped closer to the screen. Her fingers hovered over the next region—Bangkok. "This won't get easier, you know. Every zone we reclaim will take more from us."

"I'm not expecting easy," Thomas said. "I'm expecting victory."

A long silence followed. Then Thomas stepped forward and tapped the map with his knuckle.

"Pull every debrief from Jakarta. I want full terrain scans, survivor logs, and water table samples. If Jakarta can be rebuilt, we use it as a blueprint."

Rebecca glanced at him. "For what?"

Thomas stared straight ahead. "For everything."

As the screen refreshed again, the green patch of Jakarta flickered—faint but unmistakable.

A new era was beginning. Not survival. Not just containment.

Reclamation.

Rainwalker was more than an operation now. It was a promise.

To the dead.

To the living.

And to the world that would rise from the ashes.