Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 255 - 255: Encirclement Protocol

46 Days Since First Strike — MOA Complex, War Room

The power flickered twice before the lights stabilized, casting the MOA Complex's war room in an eerie yellow hue. Rain lashed at the reinforced windows as Thomas stood before a massive digital map of Southern Luzon. The Iriga dead zone pulsed red at the center, and Fort Calinog blinked just west of it.

"Status update," Thomas said, voice hoarse from hours of debriefings.

Keplar tapped through multiple overlays on the holo-table. "We're tracking residual energy surges from the geothermal plant—pulsing at irregular intervals. Whatever came online after you left is still running, but we don't know what it's powering."

"Containment breached," Sato added grimly. "The host didn't survive, but his message was clear. Something is conscious. And it's learning. We're assuming it's a variant strain of the Bloom."

Thomas didn't respond right away. He stared at the blinking lights—representing enclaves, outposts, possible allies.

"If Iriga falls to whatever's beneath that facility," he finally said, "it won't stop at the crater."

Phillip, still seated beside the map, looked up. "We need to surround it. Not just seal it—encircle it. Smother it before it spreads."

Thomas nodded. "I want a permanent no-go zone drawn around Iriga. Thirty kilometers in all directions. Tell Fort Calinog we're setting up listening posts."

"Already working on it," Keplar said, dragging icons into position. "But we need boots on the ground. Fort Calinog's the closest. But… they haven't committed yet."

Thomas exhaled. "Then we give them a reason to."

Same Time — Fort Calinog, Camarines Sur

The meeting room at Fort Calinog smelled faintly of wood smoke and oil. Lira Morales leaned over a hand-drawn map as her senior council debated the Overwatch proposal.

"They want to use our eastern ridge as a forward station," Ferrer muttered. "That's one step from annexation."

"No, it's strategic sense," said the enclave's agricultural chief. "You saw what came out of Iriga—nothing. That's what's terrifying. We're blind out there."

"They're not asking for our submission," Lira said, folding her arms. "They're asking for our cooperation."

Ferrer still looked unconvinced. "And if they decide they don't need us anymore?"

"Then we make sure they always do."

Lira turned toward the windows. In the distance, the outline of Iriga's scorched horizon stood stark against the setting sun.

"Prep our signal dishes," she said. "I'll speak with Thomas myself."

Later — Secure Uplink to MOA Complex

Lira appeared on-screen in the MOA command center, her voice crisp but composed.

"Commander Estaris," she said. "Fort Calinog is willing to assist in your containment ring—under certain terms."

Thomas leaned closer to the console. "Name them."

"We maintain local autonomy. We'll share recon feeds, provide manpower, and allow supply lines through our sector. But your patrols stay out of our core perimeter unless invited."

"Agreed," Thomas said immediately.

"Second," she added. "We want access to your Bloom research. All of it. Including what you've recovered from Iriga."

That made Sato stir. But Thomas answered without flinching.

"You'll get it. We need you in this fight."

Lira's eyes narrowed. "Then we have an understanding. I'll dispatch a forward recon detachment by morning."

The feed cut.

Phillip turned toward Thomas. "You trust her that fast?"

"No," Thomas said. "But I trust that she saw what I saw. And that changes people."

47 Days Since First Strike — Outskirts of Iriga Dead Zone

The first mobile listening post was dropped via tiltrotor onto a flat clearing roughly twelve kilometers west of the geothermal ruins. The container unfolded into a modular structure equipped with thermal sensors, seismic detectors, and a low-frequency radar dish capable of mapping sub-surface anomalies.

Fort Calinog engineers and Overwatch operators worked side by side under floodlights.

Callahan, the sniper from the recon team, now led the security detail. He stood atop the nearest ridge, rifle in hand, watching the horizon.

Cruz, still shaken from Iriga, stayed near the sensors.

"It's twitching again," he murmured. "Every three hours. Just a pulse, like it's checking."

"Checking what?" asked a Calinog tech.

"If we're still here."

The wind shifted, blowing a strange scent—metallic and damp—across the clearing.

Callahan radioed in. "Command, we've got wind drift coming directly from the crater. No visual yet, but instruments are showing a minor pressure drop."

Back at MOA, Keplar confirmed. "Satellite thermal sweep just showed a heat spike underground. Something's building up."

48 Days Since First Strike — MOA Complex Briefing

By now, three more listening posts had been installed, forming the early bones of the containment ring. But the data was disturbing.

"Something's tunneling," Keplar said, projecting a 3D topographical scan of the region. "It's not spores. It's something bigger. We believe it's creating an underground nest or artery network. Iriga isn't the hive. It's the mouth."

Thomas nodded slowly. "Then we seal the throat."

Sato stepped forward. "We've been experimenting with thermobaric charges. If we can detonate them in a chain at specific tunnel junctions, we might collapse the sub-terrain before it spreads farther."

"How big?" Phillip asked.

"Big enough to shatter a mountain."

Thomas looked around the table.

"We'll need clearance from every enclave in the perimeter."

"Already in progress," Sato replied.

48 Days Since First Strike — Recon South of the Ring

An Overwatch patrol led by Lt. Marin was sent to investigate a nearby water treatment plant reported by satellite to still be structurally intact.

What they found made their blood run cold.

The building was sealed. Pristine. But the interior was filled with hundreds of preserved bodies—stacked, clean, bagged.

Cameras were still rolling.

The logs indicated the facility had once been a triage hub for infected patients. But none of the patients showed signs of the Bloom. They were killed preemptively.

Euthanized.

Thomas received the report in silence.

"They knew what was coming," he muttered. "They chose death over transformation."

Evening, Same Day — MOA Complex Roof

Phillip stood beside Thomas, both men watching the stars—what little remained behind polluted clouds.

"You think it started in Iriga?" Phillip asked.

"No," Thomas replied. "I think it woke up there. Someone dug too deep. Or contained it too long. Either way, the clock's ticking."

"You scared?"

Thomas paused, then nodded.

"Yeah. Because this time, it's not about surviving the dead. It's about fighting something alive."

"Then we hit it first."

Thomas looked at him.

"We will. But not just with guns. With ideas. With alliances. With resolve."

Phillip smirked. "Sounds like you're running for president of the apocalypse."

Thomas chuckled bitterly. "No. Just trying to be the last man standing."

49 Days Since First Strike — Pre-Dawn Mobilization

Overwatch command issued a high-alert bulletin to every allied outpost:

⚠️ REGIONAL QUARANTINE ORDER — ZONE IRIGA ALPHAAll units are to observe the 30-kilometer exclusion boundary.Any anomalous sightings—no matter how small—must be reported.Civilian approach to the crater is now considered hostile protocol.All underground access points are to be collapsed.

At Fort Calinog, Lira read the order silently. Then passed it to Ferrer.

"Get the teams ready. If this turns into a siege, I want every wall reinforced."

Same Time — Unknown Depth Below Iriga

Something massive shifted below layers of stone and ash. A pulsing root-like tendril undulated against reinforced steel.

It had memory.

It had shape.

It had learned.

It no longer needed the geothermal station.

It needed only time.

And time, it was learning… could be stolen.