The aircraft that had just taken off were caught in the shockwave, crushed into twisted heaps of metal before they could even explode. Everything within the base was annihilated in an instant, reduced to ash and rubble. But the tungsten rod's devastation didn't stop there. Traveling at Mach 61, the five-ton projectile buried itself deep into the Earth like a drill. The sheer force of the impact triggered a chain reaction, shaking the very foundations of the planet.
The seismic shock rippled through the Earth's crust, disrupting the continental plates. And unfortunately for Japan, it lay at the volatile intersection of the Eurasian and Pacific plates. What followed was a disaster of unimaginable scale. The plates shifted violently, setting off the largest earthquake in human history. Cities across the country were leveled in seconds. Skyscrapers toppled like dominos, entire neighborhoods crumbled, and survivor bases were swallowed by landslides.
Fissures split the ground, bottomless cracks tearing through the land. Seawater poured in, flooding everything in sight. It was a scene straight out of an apocalypse—a chilling replica of every doomsday scenario ever imagined. Entire swathes of land were lifted, fractured, and sent crashing into the ocean. Almost a third of the country sank beneath the waves, forever lost. Meanwhile, an enormous tsunami, with waves towering hundreds of meters high, surged outward from the sinking landmass. These waves barreled toward coastal cities, leaving destruction in their wake.
Back in the Mansion, Zack stared at the satellite feed, his expression frozen in shock. His excitement drained away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of disbelief. "Holy… crap…" he finally muttered, standing there for what felt like an eternity. The screen displayed scenes of absolute devastation. Cities sinking, massive tsunamis forming, the land itself breaking apart. Zack couldn't even find the words to describe what he was seeing. "How am I supposed to use this thing again?!" he finally shouted, his voice cracking in a mix of panic and incredulity.
Ego's voice cut through the chaos. "Sir, I think you should prepare to face global backlash."
Zack blinked, his mind still racing to process the scale of destruction. "I get that. But… can someone explain to me how this thing ended up this powerful? The simulations didn't show anything like this! This is—this is insane! It's, like, ten thousand times stronger!"
Ego replied in a measured tone, "Sir, the target's unique geographical conditions likely amplified the effects significantly."
Zack's jaw dropped as the implications sank in. What he'd planned as a calculated show of force had turned into a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions. "Well, this is a mess…" Zack muttered, sinking into his chair. He doesn't even use the enhanced tungsed rod, this just a normal rod but the result is like mini apocalpyse.
Japan sat at the crossroads of two tectonic plates. The tungsten rod strike had landed right on that delicate intersection, unleashing catastrophic destruction. The sheer depth of the impact set off a chain reaction that turned the world upside down. The collision wasn't just devastating; it was apocalyptic. The ground quaked, and entire cities were swallowed by chaos as the plates shifted violently. This wasn't just the force of a weapon—it was nature's wrath, triggered by a single, precise strike. "Man, this thing is too destructive," Zack muttered, shaking his head in frustration. From now on, space-based cannons were strictly off-limits unless absolutely necessary. Especially not anywhere near him.
Even though the destruction wasn't entirely the cannon's doing—it was the tectonic plates reacting to the strike—the tungsten rod had been the trigger. It acted like a match lighting an explosive, unleashing the full fury of nature. The tungsten rods might fall like arrows from the heavens, but the aftermath was far worse. The earth trembled. A third of Japan was gone, and the surrounding coastal cities had been submerged. Even some domestic coastal regions were starting to feel the effects.
Zack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can already see it… People all over the world are putting me at the top of their danger lists." But even Zack had underestimated the fear the space-based cannon would inspire. The live footage of the strike, captured by satellites, quickly spread across survivor bases, secret organizations, and anyone lucky—or unlucky—enough to see it.
For a moment, there was silence. No words. Just shock. Even the most hardened survivors and mysterious organizations were left gaping in terror. Those watching the footage didn't even have the presence of mind to utter a simple "fuck." The scenes of devastation were beyond comprehension, evoking a deep, primal fear. It felt just like the first time humanity saw the true power of nuclear weapons. But this wasn't a bomb; it was something far worse. A weapon hanging high above their heads, waiting to fall, like the Sword of Damocles.
Everyone understood the implications, and it scared them to their core. What if it happened to them? What if their city was next?
Finally, someone broke the silence. "No! This thing has to be destroyed!"
"This weapon should never exist!"
"Why are we building weapons like this when the world is already falling apart?!"
Outrage erupted across the world. Survivor bases and factions of every kind, across every region, found themselves in rare agreement. Race, location, and old grudges didn't matter. The consensus was clear: this weapon was too dangerous, and it had to be destroyed. Otherwise, no one would ever sleep peacefully again. The space-based cannon wasn't just another threat. It was worse than the billions of zombies plaguing the world. Zombies could be fought off. This? This was unstoppable. Once it was deployed, the end was guaranteed.
But while many raged, no one dared to openly challenge Zack. Not yet. His reputation for swift, merciless retaliation had already been proven. Japan was a chilling example—just a few missiles fired in his direction had led to their destruction. A third of their territory was now under the sea. Millions of survivors had perished. And the missiles they'd fired? Intercepted before they even reached their target.
"Quick! I don't care what it takes—find out everything about his base!"
"We need answers now!"
In the midst of the chaos, different factions scrambled to gather intelligence. Survivor bases, governments, and organizations were all mobilizing, desperate to learn more about Zack and his space-based cannon.
"He's the devil himself! The reincarnation of Satan!" a religious leader screamed in hysteria.
"Enough! We can't stop him on our own—we need to unite with other forces!"
Similar calls rang out across the world. Alliances were proposed, conspiracies were hatched, and fear fueled every decision. Many secretly hoped to leverage Zack's technology for their own gain, but the overwhelming fear of his weapon overshadowed greed. It didn't take long for half the major survivor bases to agree to a loose alliance. Their goal was simple: eliminate Zack before he brought the world to its knees. Yet, amidst all the chaos, it seemed as if invisible forces were fanning the flames, pushing Zack into the role of a global Mansionin.
For Zack, trouble came in waves. Just as the world rallied against him, the zombies decided to make their presence known.
Imperial Capital Base. Here, the mood was tense. Unlike the rest of the world, they hadn't joined the crusade against Zack. Instead, they were bracing for an entirely different kind of disaster. Even teenagers were handed weapons—spears, guns, whatever they could find. The air was heavy with dread, like a storm brewing on the horizon.