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Author Topic: Zombies in the Bluzone** [[CLOSING]]  (Read 322600 times)

i've decided. please excuse the essay/novel quota of this finale, just thought i'd get it done and over with.

As the Bluzone garrison became less of a priority. Those who inhabited began to leave on the departure in hopes, to bring progress to the seldom, and dangerous lives of those who prospered. In hopes of either death, differential, or the potential of starting over.

In the instance of the sudden desolation, and derelict state of the once fluently active locations of the Bluzone, Vadim, was not one of those in desperation, but was not in grievance either.

Vadim walked the desolate paths, and routes that were once trotted by those who prospered, or those who have since then passed. Their footsteps the only part of them to remember. Although, those being faded away; Vadim's footsteps, beyond his attention, would most likely be the last to set foot, on the argued, disputed soil of the Bluzone.

As Vadim approaches the end of Route 24, he has the posture of that of a person, who simply stands alone. He does not search for anything, he does not strive for anything. But like-wise, as he expects he is the only one to wander these ironically tidy, un-tampered wastes, he finds out, that he isn't.

A wanderer ponders the streets of Gammaton as the sun rises. With Vadim not having any intent on being cautious, or offensive to the oncoming wanderer, the wanderer is like-wise, simply staring at him as he stops in his place.

Nothing is regarded, spoken of, as Vadim makes his way down into the streets, solemn emotion as he approaches the wanderer who faces him. They meet face-to-face from a distance away. The wanderer wears no mask, nothing to ensure his anonymity as it already is to Vadim. To what catches Vadim's eye, the wanderer wears the same uniform. Stripped and clad with mostly those taken from other conveniences in Wild Territory, but still wearing the uniform. It is not ripped or torn, but tidy.

"It is nice to see a familiar face, from what I had expected to confront while walking through here." The wanderer says, smiling.

Vadim stares surprisingly at the wanderer's face, eye-to-eye;

".. What would somebody like you be doing here..? .. Vadim says, the wanderer chuckles;

"I am not /somebody,/ I have a name. Just as you do."

".. Are you asking for my name?" Vadim questions, looking off for a moment.

"Conveniently, I already know your name. In the depth of your surprise, you most likely know mine."

".. It's your name that I know, but in obscurity, that name should've never been spoken again.. How are you still alive."

The wanderer smirks as he wraps his arms around his chest; "I wouldn't focus on the inevitabillity of death, when you've still got the future of your life whirling towards you, Vadim."

Vadim smiles mildly as well; "You certainly are no different from how I remember, Alex."

The wanderer puts his hand on Vadim's shoulder; "That's because nothing ever changed, friend."

my brain just exploded.

brb towel.

An omniscient rumble overtook the air, exploring each building and winding through the caves and canyons. The survivors were used to hearing distant gunfire, but this time it was different. Something wasn't right. The night sky lit up, turning into a magnificent blue. There was radio chatter, asking for people to report in and trying to figure out what was going on. A moment passes, until a horrific shock wave roars over the Bluzone. The sheer noise of it sweeping even the most grounded survivor of their feet. The sound of windows smashing, and objects falling of shelves brewed up in the Survivor Base, as the once tall radio tower let out a deep, metallic moan. The tower began to teeter, as the years of abuse from both the environment and arms fire got to it. One of the main supports broke, leaving the tower to lean straight down toward the 4A Vodka bar. There were screams and concern as people tried to radio for assistance, only to find they no longer had any coverage. The radio tower crashed down atop the vodka bar, sending up a thick smog of dust. The shock wave left, along with the noise. Those in the Survivor Base squabbled about trying to tend to the wounded, until a harmony of moans was heard. Little did they know, as all of this happened, a gigantic horde was sweeping through the Wild Territory. With the radios out, the survivors were not informed and didn't have time to prepare- some didn't even think the horde was headed their way. Within a heartbeat, an empowering zombie horde stormed into the Survivor Base. Gunfire, screams, shouts, all for naught. Some lucky few managed to escape, but the majority were butchered. The Survivor Base burnt to the grown, as someone attempted to set the horde alight. The smoke of the burning Survivor Base could be seen for miles.

Those in Gammaton didn't have it much luckier. Due to the town's deterioration, the shockwave crumbled a lot of buildings. However, this was the least of their concern. While Survivor Base was being torn apart by zombies, a battle between two military forces raged on. The two armies seem to have been bringing out everything they had. Tanks, jets, helicopters and even ground troops. Casualties were high, and Gammaton was slowly getting reduced to rubble. Under orders, survivors were shot on-sight. It was an outright blood bath. A stray missile hit the bar that sat so comfortably above the Vengeance Base, causing it to crumble down. All of the noise and gunfire, however, drew the attention of another competitor. A herd of Mutalids approached the town, curious of the noise. Among them, Mother Hydra. Upon seeing them, a tank positioned along the hills opened fire on the beasts, only to cause no damage. Instead, the herd was enraged by this and instantly sprinted toward the tank. Gammaton was an outright war zone. Mutalids were tearing tanks open, soldiers were pinning each other down, helicopters let rip into the air and jets tailed eachother, roaring over the area. The remaining survivors knew this would be the death of them. Some remained, in hopes to defend their homes and others ran away.

This felt like the end of the Bluzone, and perhaps it really was. Another rumble, similiar to the one before, echoed out. This time, however, it was closer. It was closer than anyone expected. A gigantic mushroom cloud emanated from the wild territory, consuming the entire Bluzone in a painful bright light. The shockwave was gigantic, even ripping the grass off the hills. Flesh was torn straight off of anyone who was close enough to the explosion, however whether anyone survived this or not is not clear, but what is known for certain is that the Bluzone is no more.