Atlanta, Georgia — Four Days Before the Fall
Morning sunlight filtered through broken blinds, striping the floor of Zephyr Ward's apartment in gold and gray. The city outside was still alive — traffic, laughter, construction noise — all of it running on borrowed time.
Zephyr stood at the window, drinking from a bottle of water he'd purified himself. His reflection stared back — calm, focused, detached. The reflection of a man who had already accepted the end of the world.
He checked his watch. 0600 hours.
Time to move.
Mission Objective: Early Resource Network
Before everything collapsed, Zephyr needed redundancy — multiple fallback points spread across the city. Places where he could grab fuel, food, or ammo once chaos hit.
He called them caches, a habit born from his years in special operations.
He pulled out his notebook and reviewed yesterday's notes:
Cache A: Industrial District — tools and spare parts.
Cache B: Midtown — dry food, water purification, first-aid.
Cache C: Construction Yard — diesel and heavy equipment.
Cache D: Personal stash near the highway for quick evacuation.
He didn't have to raid anything yet — just gather what could be purchased, collected, or acquired unnoticed. The goal was to prepare quietly, like a shadow moving beneath the surface of normal life.
Operator Protocol Active.
Available Skills:
- Firearms Handling Lv.1
- Maintenance Lv.2
- Stealth Lv.1
- Recon Analysis Lv.2
- Physical Conditioning Lv.1
- Situational Awareness Lv.1
- Planing Lv.1
- Planning Lv.1
The numbers appeared faintly in his mind's eye, clean and minimal — no clutter, no game-like icons. Just data.
Muscle growth consistent. Reaction time improved. Cognitive recall sharper. The System is working exactly as intended.
He packed light — just a sidearm, a small crowbar, and a folded duffel in case of opportunity. Everything else was inside the Operator Protocol's infinite inventory.
Cache A — Industrial District
By 0700, Zephyr reached the industrial outskirts. Rows of warehouses lined the cracked asphalt, air thick with the smell of oil and metal. He moved efficiently, scanning for supply opportunities.
A small tool rental shop caught his eye — "Cobb County Equipment Supply."
The open sign hung crookedly, and the front door was unlocked. He entered, scanning the aisles. No one was inside.
Shelves were stocked with hand tools, wrenches, pliers, saws, and — jackpot — a pair of compact welding kits.
Perfect for metal repair, armor plating, or frame modification.
He knelt, tested the weight, and mentally triggered the System.
The tools vanished into inventory — a ripple in the air, a silent flicker that only he could sense.
[Item Added: Welding Kit ×2]
[Item Added: Tool Set (Industrial Grade)]
[Skill Formed: Engineering Basics Lv.1]
He exhaled quietly. The System adapted fast, shaping new skill pathways with each experience.
He checked the backroom and found a rack of safety gear — gloves, goggles, ear protection. Into the inventory they went.
Outside, he locked the door behind him, leaving no trace. He wasn't looting yet — he was collecting before the storm.
Cache B — Midtown
By noon, Zephyr was walking through Midtown, blending in with the afternoon crowd. Businessmen talked on phones, students hurried to class, a woman jogged by with a dog. Ordinary. Fragile.
He ducked into a small hardware-and-grocery hybrid store — the kind that sold a bit of everything. He moved aisle by aisle, scanning labels, calculating calorie density and shelf life.
Canned beans
Protein bars
Peanut butter
Duct tape
Rope
Medical gauze and antiseptic
He purchased them normally — no theft, no suspicion. The clerk barely looked up as he paid in cash.
Civilization still works. For now.
Outside, he turned a corner into an empty alley and stored everything into the System's void.
[Item Added: Food Supplies (Assorted)]
[Item Added: Medical Supplies (Basic)]
He crouched behind a dumpster and marked the spot in his notebook — Cache B: Complete.
Then, as he stood, a faint sound drifted from a nearby street: sirens. Loud, urgent.
He froze, scanning the reflection on a car window. An ambulance raced by, two police cruisers behind it. The radio on one car crackled with static and a single audible word:
"—bitten—"
Zephyr's pulse slowed. His instincts sharpened.
Too early.
Or maybe… right on time.
Cache C — Construction Yard
By 1400 hours, the sky turned heavy with storm clouds. Zephyr reached the construction zone he'd scouted earlier — fenced area, equipment parked idle, no workers in sight.
He vaulted the side gate quietly, boots hitting dirt. Diesel tanks sat behind a portable office trailer, each marked "FOR EQUIPMENT USE ONLY."
He tapped one — three-quarters full. Diesel. Perfect.
He siphoned a small amount using a hose he found, storing several gallons in labeled containers before pushing them into the System inventory.
Then he turned his attention to something more valuable — a set of heavy-duty tools: power drills, hydraulic jacks, and a portable generator.
The generator alone is gold. I can retrofit it into the HEMTT's workshop bay.
Everything disappeared into storage in seconds. No noise, no trace.
As he turned to leave, thunder rumbled in the distance. He glanced up — the storm would keep people indoors, perfect cover for moving unnoticed.
Cache D — Highway Perimeter
By late afternoon, Zephyr reached an old gas station by the highway — his planned fallback point. The station was half-abandoned, with cracked pumps and faded signs.
He entered the backroom and checked storage — shelves of dusty motor oil, coolant, and a few sealed jugs of water. Not much, but enough for emergencies.
He wiped a corner clean and marked an X on the concrete with a piece of chalk — a personal marker for a future cache site. Then he began clearing debris, creating a hidden alcove beneath a fallen shelf.
A small, isolated, secure hideout.
He crouched, tucking a few emergency items inside — a multi-tool, a lighter, two MREs, and a folded map of Georgia.
If I ever need to disappear, this will do.
Evening — Civilian Panic
The rain started as Zephyr made his way home. Traffic thickened, people honked and yelled.
He passed a pharmacy where a small crowd had gathered. The news on a TV inside showed shaky phone footage — a man covered in blood attacking another person in a parking lot.
The scrolling text beneath read:
"Authorities Link Attacks to New Synthetic Drug. CDC Urges Calm."
Zephyr stopped outside the window, water dripping from his jacket, eyes narrowing.
The excuses have started.
Tomorrow, the word "drug" becomes "disease." By day six, they'll lose control.
He turned away, ignoring the panicked chatter around him.
Night — Consolidation
Back in his apartment, Zephyr stripped off his wet clothes and stretched. His muscles ached pleasantly from the day's work — the good kind of pain.
He opened his notebook again.
Day Four Summary:
Caches A, B, C, and D established.
Tools, food, fuel, medical, generator secured.
Minor signs of outbreak confirmed.
Depot surveillance continues tomorrow night.
He flipped to a new page labeled Training Log and began push-ups. One hundred. Then squats. Core work. Burpees. The System responded instantly.
[Training Complete]
[Physical Abilities Slightly Improved.]
Breathing hard, Zephyr sat on the floor, towel over his shoulders. The System wasn't just enhancing his body — it was refining his efficiency. He could feel every micro-adjustment, every improvement in muscle fiber response.
He stood, moving with the silent confidence of a predator that already knew the terrain.
The world hasn't fallen yet… but it's starting to crack.
Four days left. Then everything changes.
He checked his pistol one last time, set it on the nightstand, and leaned back on the bed.
The hum of the refrigerator was gone.
Power flickered for half a second. Then silence.
Zephyr smiled faintly in the dark.
"Right on schedule," he whispered.
(To be continued…)