The squad moved with precision, following their commander's orders. One by one, they swept through the remaining homes, checking for infected, securing any usable resources, and keeping their communication tight and efficient.
Meanwhile, the commander walked alone toward the house where the wounded civilian had first emerged. The door now hung ajar, the trail of dried blood stark against the floor. He stepped inside, alert but composed. Though the house was empty, it didn't take long for him to realize something was off.
The pictures hanging on the walls showed a family—smiling faces that didn't match the man who had fled earlier. The commander studied them in silence. The man wasn't part of this household.
He stepped outside again, scanning the nearby homes until something caught his eye: faint traces of blood continuing across the road. Following the trail, he came upon a house with its gate already half open. Quietly, he entered.
Inside the living room, the scene was grim. A middle-aged woman lay lifeless on the floor, her neck slashed open. The blood had dried, but not long ago. He stood over her for a moment, piecing together a theory.
After a pause, he moved through the rest of the house—nothing notable, no other signs of life. Back in the living room, he picked up a smartphone left on a nearby table. It was locked, but face recognition was enabled. He held the phone near the woman's face. It unlocked.
He spent several minutes sifting through its contents—messages, photos, calendar entries. Gradually, fragments of a larger picture began to emerge. His suspicion was now partially confirmed, though not yet conclusive. More evidence would be necessary to confirm the theory beyond doubt. "Better to gather more first," he murmured under his breath.
Slipping the phone into the back pocket of his pants, the commander gently closed the woman's eyes, then took a curtain from the window and draped it over her body with quiet respect.
As he stepped outside, he spotted Charlie exiting a nearby house. The commander gestured for him to approach.
Charlie jogged over but was stopped short by the commander's words. "You don't have to run. Just walk."
"Copy that," Charlie said, adjusting his pace. Then, after a brief pause, he asked, "What's the situation, sir?"
"I need your radio," the commander replied.
Charlie handed it over without hesitation. The commander pressed the button and spoke:
"This is Commander. I need you all to search for and collect any smartphones you can find. If a phone is secured with facial recognition or fingerprint lock, try matching it with nearby infected corpses to unlock it. If the phone is on low battery, charge it for a while, then try to unlock it. Once unlocked, reset the security to default and secure the phone. If unlocking fails, leave it for now. We'll handle it later. Regroup near the mosque at 09.00 o'clock. Any questions?"
There was a moment of silence. Then Alpha responded, "No, sir."
"Good. Proceed."
A chorus of voices answered, "Affirmative."
The commander returned the radio to Charlie. "Thanks, Charlie. You can join the others."
"Copy that," Charlie replied, then hesitated. "What about you, sir?"
The commander was already turning away. "I'll clear the remaining area."
And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, blade at his side and pistol in hand, silent as the night around him.
⧫⧫ [Time Skip — Two Hours Later] ⧫⧫
09:00 PM
The squad had already regrouped on the road near the mosque. Along with their usual gear, they now carried additional bags filled with scavenged supplies—phones, medicine, canned food, eggs, and even a few packs of instant noodles. They were consolidating their haul into a single large pack for easier transport when they finally spotted the commander approaching.
He walked toward them with measured steps, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Alpha stepped forward and gave a crisp nod.
"Report, sir. We've gathered what you ordered. Unfortunately, most of the phones weren't locked with facial or fingerprint recognition. And... we didn't find any survivors."
The commander accepted the report with a steady expression. "It's alright. Even a few phones are enough for now. As for survivors—that's not our priority yet. Our focus is to gather strength and reliable intel before we bring others in."
Alpha nodded. With the supplies sorted and secured, the commander turned and led them back. A few minutes later, they arrived at the house that now served as their temporary base. What greeted them was a grim sight: the broken gate and a dozen infected corpses strewn across the yard.
The commander stopped just short of the gate, eyes scanning the damage. He let out a soft sigh.
Alpha moved as if to speak, but the commander raised a hand to stop him.
"It's okay. It was an old gate anyway. That's not what I wanted to talk about."
Alpha gave a brief nod, standing at attention.
The commander continued, "Put the bags in the parlor. Then we'll move the bodies to the pile with the others. After that, help me get this gate back up—just for tonight. We'll repair it properly tomorrow."
He let his gaze sweep across the squad before adding, "Once we're done, we rest. And don't worry—while we do, I'll answer the questions you've all been holding in."
The reply came instantly and in unison: "Affirmative." "Roger." "Copy that."
With quiet efficiency, the squad moved to obey. They stashed the supplies, then began clearing the yard. The front and rear of the residential area were now secure, but their work—like the night—was far from over.
✦✦✦
The yard had been cleaned once again. The gate, too, had been tidied up, though parts of it now showed signs of wear—some sections were bent, a reminder of the challenges faced.
The squad and their commander sat on the terrace. This time, all of them were present—resting, inspecting their weapons, eyes occasionally drifting to the commander as he cleaned his sword. A few smartphones lay beside him, their screens dark.
No one spoke.
Feeling their gazes, the commander finally broke the silence. "From what we've gathered so far, you can probably piece together the timing of the outbreak. It took place 5 nights ago, sometime between 7:00 and 10:00 PM. That estimate comes from the chat logs and their timestamps on the phones we recovered."
He paused, wiping his blade slowly.
"As for the source—we all know what it was. The moon. Whether it was caused by exposure to moonlight or some form of radiation, we can't confirm yet. But I suspect the primary reason so many were infected was curiosity. People stepped outside to take photos or record the blood moon... and by the time they returned indoors, it was already too late."
Grim expressions spread across the squad. Some had already considered that possibility.
"Of course, I think there's something more to it," the commander added. "We've been outside for hours, and none of us have turned."
He kept the next thought to himself, subtle and quiet: 'Though there's a possibility the system protects me... and the summoned troops might be immune as well.'
He continued aloud, "And don't forget the time differences. While some countries were experiencing night and this blood-colored moon, others—on different continents—clearly weren't."
"As for the animals… my guess is they sensed something—danger, maybe—and tried to flee. But by the time they reached the forest, some of them had already begun to turn. Still… that doesn't fully explain their behavior."
He glanced toward the red moon, thoughtful.
"They didn't react to our gunfire like normal infected usually do. That's odd. Could it be that they're more sensitive to sunlight—more so than typical zombies—making them prefer to stay hidden in the forest until nightfall? Or…" his voice lowered slightly, "is there something else at play here?"
"That's why I plan to venture out the day after tomorrow. We need more information. And the fact that we haven't heard anything about the Xh'kral... that's either good news—or very, very bad."
Alpha raised his hand. "Where are we exactly, sir?"
The commander stopped wiping the blade and looked up. "We're in Indonesia. Province of Central Sulawesi. Specifically, Palu City. Or... as I prefer to call it—Hammer City."
The squad exchanged glances. Some of their unspoken questions had just been answered.
Then the commander leaned back, glanced at Alpha and looked at the rest of the squad.
1st Person POV (Commander)
"You—no, all of you—want to ask about me, don't you?"
They nodded.
"Explaining everything would take too long. And honestly, I don't want to explain it all. Too little wouldn't be fair either, not now that I'm the one leading this operation."
I paused.
"My name... for now, just Commander will do. I've never been part of the military. But as you've probably noticed—I know how to kill. Not civilians. At least... not entirely. But killing is killing. And if it's more than one, it's murder."
I looked each of them in the eye.
"The circumstances weren't simple. That's why instead of prison, they put me under house arrest. That's what the ankle monitor was for—you all saw it, right?"
Their eyes didn't flinch. They listened—not judging, but processing.
"As for how I know about the animals, the moon, that lone survivor—it comes from experience. A lot of it. Think of it as a skill earned through too many close calls and too many scars."
He paused, his gaze shifting slightly.
"Speaking of which... that survivor wasn't simple either. Before he ever showed himself to us, he'd already killed another—an older woman, middle-aged. From the signs, her estimated time of death was likely late noon or early afternoon. They must've heard our gunfire."
He looked at the squad, noting their expressions. They were already connecting the dots.
"Just like what you're thinking—after hearing our shots, they probably tried to reach us. But the infected were in the way. Maybe the woman couldn't wait any longer. Maybe they argued. Maybe that argument turned physical, which drew attention. And in the chaos… he killed her. Whether in panic or intent, we'll never know."
He exhaled quietly.
"Unluckily for him, he got bitten during the escape. Probably while trying to reach that house—the same one you saw him at before he turned."
I stood slowly.
"I know my methods don't follow the military's usual protocol. I'm not like the superiors you're used to. But if you choose to follow me, know this—there will be more moments like this in the future,"
A cold breeze drifted past as the question hung in the air.
"If not, you're free to go. I'll allow it."
My voice hardened.
"But go far. Because the next time I see you—I'll kill you. I have no tolerance for traitors."
I let the silence stretch before finishing.
"But if you stay—then as one man to another—I can only give you my word, my respect, my guidance, and my effort to see this mission through. I will help you complete it. I will help you survive.
That's why I ask now, while it's still Day One: "Do you accept me as your commander?"
Maybe because I was too lost in my memories—I hadn't even realized my sword was unsheathed, and that I'd been absentmindedly playing with it. I sheathed it quietly, then looked each squad member in the eye. Unlike this morning, when there had only been recognition and adherence to protocol, now I saw something more—understanding. An acknowledgment.
Foxtrot spoke first. "I will always follow your orders, sir."
Bravo nodded. "Whatever you order, sir. I'm ready."
Charlie gave a grin. "Charlie-3, Pointman, at your service, sir."
Echo stepped forward. "Echo-2, barrel hot and cover tight. With you till the end, sir."
The medic, Delta, followed. "I'm not here to judge the past. You've kept us safe—and that's enough for me. I'm with you."
Finally, I turned to Alpha. He held my gaze for a moment, then looked at his teammates before speaking.
"Truthfully, we had our hesitations, sir—through all the challenges we faced before. But if what you said is true, then it wouldn't be right not to give you the respect you deserve as our commander."
Alpha then looked directly at me, his tone firm, his posture following that of his squadmates.
"Our squad will be your hands and weapons. We will follow you until the end."
"Sentinel-6 Squad, at your disposal, sir."
The squad looked at me—and in perfect unison, they raised their hands in salute.
I returned it.
When the salute fell, I chuckled and asked with a faint smile,
"Good. So… Do you guys eat tofu?"