Quick word from the author! 👇Hey everyone, I'm going to be straight with you.I know this might sound a bit needy, but I want to be honest. I've been working non-stop on this zombie novel and I've already crossed the 200,000-word mark… that's basically a whole month of writing every single day without a break. My plan is to keep this pace and drop at least 1,500 words daily.But here's the thing… seeing the view count go up while the comment section stays quiet is a bit discouraging 😅So, if you're following the story, could you do me a huge favor?Let me know what you think in the comments, drop a vote, or throw some Power Stones my way. I'm not asking for coins or anything paid—I just need to know if you guys are enjoying the ride, if I'm on the right track, or if there's something I can improve.Your feedback helps way more than you realize, seriously.We're in this together! 👊
The screen was still pulsing with a mix of general and civilian responses when he paused for a second and realized something obvious that no one had mentioned yet: everyone was stuck on the idea of the ground, the street, the city, animals running, things climbing walls, but no one had considered the other side of the planet, the side that covers more than half of everything, and that gave him a different kind of chill because when the question comes too late, it's because the answer won't be good. He took a deep breath, touched the keyboard with his fingers, and decided to go straight to the point, without beating around the bush, marking who could really answer it.
— #Admirals #Navy #WORLD attention this is a serious question and I haven't seen anyone talking about it yet. we're only thinking about the land, the animals that walk on the land, the zombies, the insects, the rats. and the sea.
He pauses for half a second and continues, even more directly.
— Admirals, if land animals are like this… what about aquatic animals? Do you have any news? Because you mentioned boats and evacuation by sea. I'm thinking of turtles, crabs, everything that comes out of the water and walks on land. What's coming from below.
The message goes up and for a few seconds the silence returns, heavier than before, because it's not the silence of a lack of response, it's the silence of people reading and realizing they hadn't thought about it yet, or that they had thought about it but didn't want to speak up. The first response doesn't come from a big name, it comes from some naval radio operator, a short, poorly written, but honest text.
— Naval operator: strange activity reported on rocky shores. Larger crabs, aggressive behavior. Scale not yet confirmed.
Soon after comes something more solid, a profile with a patent, Admiral Caldwell returns.
— Admiral Caldwell: Partial confirmation. Abnormal activity in coastal areas. Increased size and aggressiveness in hull species. We are still collecting data. We no longer have the same control over the sea as before.
The phrase doesn't reassure anyone; on the contrary, it opens the door for the worst, and then another profile comes in, this time from the Asian navy, with a more technical voice.
Rear Admiral Park: Submarine sensors indicate mass movement in deep regions. We haven't been able to classify it yet. The behavior doesn't correspond to known migration patterns.
Another message comes in, another admiral, probably South American.
— Admiral Rojas: reports from fishermen before the communication outage indicated fish attacking nets in groups, an unnatural behavior. Smaller vessels are being avoided.
The screen begins to get denser, fewer people commenting, more people reading, waiting for confirmation of what no one wants to confirm. He stares at it and already senses the pattern, when no one wants to be the first to say the worst.
And then it comes.
Admiral Caldwell: Let's be direct. Don't consider the sea safe. I repeat, don't consider the sea safe. Some areas are still usable, but we have no control. We've lost ships. Not just to birds.
The last sentence carries more weight than it should, and someone asks a direct question.
— civil: not only for birds means what
It takes a little longer than usual for a response to come, which only makes things worse.
— Admiral Caldwell: it means that something is attacking from below as well.
And there you have it, the line has been crossed.
Another profile emerges, a scientific voice now.
— Marine biologist: If the logic of evolution is consistent with what is happening on land, then aquatic species are also undergoing changes. Size, aggressiveness, behavior. We don't have complete data, but the direction is worrying.
He reads it and immediately connects it to what he said before, without needing full confirmation.
— So forget about running away to the sea thinking you're safe. It's even less predictable than land. You can't see what's coming from there.
Another response comes in, this time from a naval engineer.
— Naval engineer: The ship's hull wasn't designed for a large-scale impact from an unknown mass. If something large is down there, a small boat won't withstand it.
Someone is writing in an attempt to alleviate their fear, perhaps out of apprehension.
— civil: but and islands
The answer comes quickly, almost cutting off hope.
Admiral Rojas: The island is only safe until it isn't. We have no way of guaranteeing isolation.
He stares at the screen, the cursor blinking, with the feeling that the world has just lost another safe direction. Earth was no longer reliable. The sky had become a risk. And now water too.
And he writes again, not as an expert, just as someone who understood the pattern.
So think of it this way: there's no such thing as a safe place, only the least bad place at that moment. If you go into the water, the risk is different. If you stay on land, it's different. Choice isn't about running away from danger, it's about choosing which danger you can handle best.
The response comes back faster now, people understanding, people despairing, people adapting.
General Hawkins: This changes coastal evacuation.
Lieutenant General Liu Wei confirms the need for a regional assessment before deployment.
Israeli Command: Focus on ground containment remains a priority.
And then someone writes something that sums it all up.
— civil: then there's no way out
And the answer doesn't come from the military, it doesn't come from scientists, it's lost in the midst of chaos.
— another civilian: yes. it's just not easy.
And that's how it stays.
Because in the end it's not about having a clean exit, it's about continuing to try to get out, even when every direction you look seems worse than the last.
He leans back in his chair, looks at the ring on his finger, glances at the screen full of responses, and realizes he has just opened up another piece of hell that no one had dared to look at yet.
And now everyone knows.
The problem isn't just on land.
The problem is everywhere.
And that completely changes the game.
He spends a few seconds looking at everything he's just read: generals talking like ordinary people, admirals admitting the sea isn't safe, a doctor describing symptoms as if narrating a movie nobody wants to watch to the end. Then comes that dry, simple, and honest thought that cuts through everything: "I'm screwed," not as a drama, but as a calculation. And he starts typing without embellishment, without trying to seem better than he is, just throwing out the reality as it hit him.
— Well guys, I'm screwed, you know? I'm in a 50-story building in the middle of Manhattan on Fifth Avenue, facing Central Park. Imagine living in the middle of one of the most populous cities on Earth when everything decides to go wrong at the same time.
He keeps going without stopping because now is not the time to look good.
— I've got a baseball bat, an improvised spear with several knives attached to the handle, simple stuff, something anyone can make if they have the materials and the brains not to cut themselves in the process. I won't go into detail about firearms, but you know they exist.
He breathes shallowly and continues.
— Anyone who knows how to make a homemade weapon can teach it right here, no fuss, no ego, no secrets. Keep what you know to yourself now; it's asking to die if you have that knowledge on your mind. Share the basics, what works, what doesn't break on the first hit.
The screen starts responding before he finishes typing, but he continues because he needs to make that clear.
— and another firearm, only use it if absolutely necessary. It's not a movie, it's not a game. Noise attracts attention, and it attracts it quickly. You'll shoot thinking you've solved the problem, and soon there will be more coming than you can count.
He gives it minimal space and releases the rawest part.
— if you're going to use it, use it to get out of there alive, not to play hero, because if you spend it all in panic, you'll end up using your last bullet to avoid becoming undercooked meat for zombies or something worse.
He sends it and pauses for a moment, waiting for the impact, because he knows that what's there isn't pretty, but it's useful, and usefulness now is worth more than any perfect speech. The response comes immediately, as always: people thanking him, people agreeing, people cursing, because hearing the truth has never been comfortable, neither before nor now.
— civil: finally someone speaking without a filter
— another: I'm on the 23rd floor and the stairs have already turned into hell.
— another: how did you make that spear? Explain better
And he sees that the request has already started to work because a guy shows up with a photo of an improvised workshop.
— Civilian: Take a broom handle or any sturdy piece of wood, secure the blade with a screw and reinforced tape, leaving no slack. Test it before using because if it comes loose, you'll die.
Another replies
— Civilian: the bat works, but wrap a cloth around the impact area so it doesn't slip when it's bleeding.
Another one enters
— civilian: uses tape to improve grip on spear and club, sweaty hands kill
And that becomes a mini collective manual emerging in real time, without an owner, without credit, just people trying not to die in the most direct way possible.
He reads everything while his mind starts to wander, the ring on his finger feels heavier now, not because of its physical weight but because of what it represents: choice, limitation, wrong decision is costly, right decision buys time. He looks around the apartment as if seeing everything for the first time, not as decoration but as a resource.
A table becomes available wood, a chair becomes a barricade or a broken piece becomes a useful fragment, a cupboard becomes storage, a refrigerator becomes time; each thing begins to gain a different value, and he thinks about the space: five cubic meters isn't infinite, you can't take the whole world with you, you have to choose.
He opens the refrigerator, glances quickly, water, that's priority number one, grabs a bottle, grabs another, thinks about the weight, thinks about the volume, thinks about how much it holds, food later, something that lasts, non-perishable, light, energizing, he mentally separates things without putting them away yet, because he's still organizing in his head before acting.
The screen continues talking to him at the same time.
General Hawkins: Elevated position offers a visual advantage but hinders evacuation; assess stairs before you need them.
Lieutenant General Liu Wei: Avoid elevators under any circumstances.
General Richter: Reserve an alternate route in addition to the main one.
He reads and immediately thinks of the staircase, fifty floors, this isn't a descent, it's a life-or-death decision; going down without knowing what's below is like throwing yourself into the dark, staying is waiting for the problem to rise.
He goes back to the ring, picks up a bottle, thinks about putting it away, feels that strange tug and the bottle disappears, without sound, without effect, it just ceases to be there. He opens and closes his hand slowly as if confirming that it's real and lets out a low voice.
This helps... but it doesn't solve the problem.
And it goes back to the process.
He looks at the bathroom, water in the reservoir, maybe there's still some, maybe not, he thinks about filling everything he can, bucket, pan, anything, water doesn't wait.
The screen calls again
— Dr. Mitchell: Store water in any clean container available; do not rely on a continuous water supply.
Civil: How to purify without a filter
— another: boil it if you can, a cloth helps but doesn't solve everything.
He reads while walking, picks up a pot, fills it, thinks about space, thinks about weight, thinks about mobility, all at the same time.
He looks around the room, at the backpack—this will be essential, you can't carry everything by hand—grabs the backpack, opens it, and starts separating what goes inside and what goes in the ring—simple logic: what he needs quickly stays with him, what's a spare goes in the ring.
The screen continues
General Delacroix: Do not carry excess weight that compromises mobility.
Israeli Command: Balance between payload and speed is critical.
— civilian: I took too much and almost died on the stairs.
He pauses for a second, breathes, tries to organize the chaos in his head.
Water, food, tools, first aid, improvised weapon, route, map.