Following the directional sign, Zack pressed deeper into the venue, his armored boots crunching over the debris scattered across the floor. High-tech remnants lay everywhere—robots, 3D printers, chips, and advanced machinery. Once symbols of humanity's cutting-edge technology, they were now abandoned like trash. He couldn't help but feel it was such a waste. While any other scavenger would have snatched up the pieces without a second thought, Zack's goal was clear: the robotic arm. With some modifications, he could use it to rebuild nearly all of the abandoned tech into something far more advanced. There was just no way to haul all this junk back with him.
"It's a shame," Zack muttered as he moved on, eventually reaching Zone D.
Four robotic arms stood in Hall 07, looking similar to those used in most factories, but with a far more complex design. As he studied them, the virtual display in his helmet began breaking down their intricate features. The arms were made of over 10,000 parts, the smallest of which was less than a millimeter in diameter. These weren't just ordinary tools; they were masterpieces of engineering, long before the apocalypse.
He spotted an informational plaque nearby and moved closer to read:
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OPT-TFH-2024-Robotic Arm
Developed over nine years by John Kenneth, these robotic arms feature a multi-joint structure enabling independent four-axis movement. Equipped with modular, dexterous hands, they can adapt seamlessly to complex work environments, performing a wide range of tasks with exceptional precision. Their advanced design allows for maximum accuracy down to the nanometer level, making them perfect for delicate operations and high-stakes applications.
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Zack couldn't deny it. These robotic arms were top-tier technology. Now the problem was getting them back to his base. "Ego, find me a nearby transport helicopter."
"Searching... Helicopter located, Sir."
A location popped up on his HUD, guiding him toward the heliport. With a burst of speed, Zack lifted off, the sound of the helicopter's engines tearing through the air.
After a short flight, Zack piloted the transport helicopter back, struggling to maneuver the bulk of the MV-02 armor. With Ego's guidance, he managed to land just outside the venue.
A few hours later, Zack arrived at the safe house in Tribeca. Hearing the helicopter's sound, Sophia and Annie hurried outside, relief on their faces. They tucked away their communicators as Zack opened the rear hatch, stepping out with one of the robotic arms in tow.
"Is that Tesla's robotic arm?" Annie exclaimed, instantly recognizing it. "Did you go all the way to DC?"
"How did you know, Annie?" Zack replied, heading toward the basement.
"I was planning to go there before the virus outbreak..." Annie's voice faltered as she trailed off, her expression darkening.
"There wasn't much to see, honestly," Zack reassured her. "The little robots there weren't any better than what you've already built. They just had nicer materials and polish, but nothing groundbreaking."
Her eyes brightened, and she followed him. Zack made several trips back and forth, carefully moving all four robotic arms into the basement. As for the helicopter, it was left in the middle of the street—he'd missed the community helipad entirely, despite Ego's guidance.
After a while, all four arms were set up. Two were mounted on the ceiling, while the other two had mobile bases. Zack had made a few tweaks to them, adapting them for Ego's operations. But there was still one major issue: they needed a power source to run.
"I'll start with a small reactor," Zack decided. He suited up in his protective gear and headed to a secured room in the basement. This room had once been a wine cellar, temperature-controlled for storing fine bottles, but Zack had repurposed it as a storage space for radioactive materials, with shielding to contain any radiation.
Two hours later, Zack emerged from the room, holding a Cold Fusion Reactor in his hands. Smaller than the one in his MV-02 suit, this version came with a power converter to prevent overloads that could fry the Mansion's circuits in seconds.
He made his way to the generator room, but his goal wasn't just to power up his mansion—he intended to light up the whole Tribeca neighborhood. Once powered, he planned to install high-voltage rods along the community's outer walls to create an electric fence to keep the zombies out.
"Time to see if this baby works," he muttered, connecting the reactor to the main power line. With a steady hand, he flipped the power switch.
The reactor hummed softly, vibrating as it began to generate power. One by one, the streetlights flickered to life, followed by the Mansion's systems. Soon, the community's gate system was reactivated, and every appliance in the Mansion powered on.
"Sir, the power has been restored and the voltage is stable," Ego reported.
Zack wasted no time. He sprinted back to the basement. "Ego, let's test the arms!"
With a simple command, the robotic arms sprang to life. Each joint moved fluidly, testing their range and precision. "Sir, the robotic arms are functioning normally."
Relieved, Zack stepped into the center of the room. "Ego, suit me up with MV-02!" The robotic arms moved quickly, attaching the armor pieces to him with flawless precision. The entire process took less than ten seconds—something that would have taken Annie hours to do manually.
"Perfect. Now, take it off," Zack ordered, grinning. The robotic arms swiftly removed the armor, even faster than they had put it on.
Just then, his communicator buzzed. Glancing at the caller ID, Zack saw it was from the steel plant. "Probably just a power issue..." he thought, answering the call. But Charles's voice came through, frantic and panicked.
"Sir Zack! Sir Zack!"
"Charles, what's going on?" Zack asked, sensing something serious.
"It's a horde… a Zombie Wave! The undead are on the move!" Charles's voice was barely intelligible, filled with panic.
"A Zombie Wave?" Zack's mind raced. "Ego, are there any signs of zombies near the steel plant?"
"No, sir. Satellite images show only a few scattered zombies around the area, all moving away from the steel plant. There's no sign of a horde," Ego replied.
"Where did you hear about this horde, Charles?" Zack pressed.
"We rescued a survivor from New Rochelle yesterday. He told us about it."
"New Rochelle?" Zack turned to Ego. "Show me the satellite feed for New Rochelle."
Ego quickly accessed the satellite data. Within moments, the screen displayed an image that made Zack's blood run cold: a vast, unrelenting wave of zombies flooding the streets, stretching as far as the eye could see. The undead were mixed with mutated creatures of all sizes and shapes, and their numbers were staggering—at least three million, and growing by the minute. As buildings and apartments emptied, the zombies kept coming, marching relentlessly toward New York City—the very place Zack was now.
Zack ended the call, his face grim. "Ego, how long until they reach New York? Specifically, this neighborhood?"
"At most, five days," Ego replied.
Zack's expression darkened further. "Any idea what's causing this?"
"Apologies, sir. Without current data, I can't determine the cause. Our network has been offline since the blackout, and there's limited information on such a large-scale zombie movement."
Zack took a deep breath. "Fine. We'll deal with the immediate problems first, then take care of the horde."