On the streets of De M-anila city, fewer and fewer people are seen walking outside with each passing day, the change visible to the naked eye. People stay indoors, trying to avoid infection from the zombie virus, as if they were living in a movie.
If the virus was limited to its current form of infection, isolation might indeed keep them safe. But when the apocalypse erupts, a magnetic field will trigger the dormant virus within their bodies, ingested through the very air they breathe, causing it to explode into full infection. At that moment, any hope of avoiding infection will become futile.
Just beyond the outskirts of De M-anila City, nestled in the suburban sprawl, stands a massive factory. Strangely, the area outside its gates is now encircled by water, though no one knows when or how it happened.
The guards stationed outside, armed with live ammunition, nervously eye the front of the factory, where unsettling noises occasionally echo. In their hands are no longer the standard 54 pistols used by Daphne's bodyguards but genuine small assault rifles—firepower that is far beyond the reach of ordinary citizens.
Yet, despite their weaponry and their battle-hardened experience, the guards' hands tremble as they grip their guns. Fear grips them. Yes, they are terrified. The weapons they once trusted to reap life now offer no sense of security.
The source of their terror emerges from the factory—a massive figure whose every step shakes the ground.
Roshan.
The name echoes in the minds of all who see it. If this monstrous zombie had a name, it could only be Roshan.
Standing six meters tall, the creature crashes through the factory gate, its enormous frame tearing down anything in its path. Its width is as imposing as its height, making it a towering wall of flesh. Six meters high and six meters wide, its presence is nightmarish.
No one could have believed such a thing existed—until now. But the horror doesn't end with its size.
What's even more disturbing are the other human bodies grotesquely fused to its massive form—pale faces and arms twitch and wriggle across its surface, some still with small torsos attached. The creature looks like a patchwork monstrosity, something sewn together from the remains of many.
The horror is unimaginable.
Ordinary people, if they saw this, would not only be frightened—they would feel utter disgust.
The squad leader, his face filled with terror, hesitated for a moment. But once the massive figure fully emerged, he gave the signal to fire.
In an instant, the guards who had been awaiting orders pulled their triggers. The sharp crack of gunfire erupted like firecrackers, and bullets, as though guided by the god of death, flew toward the enormous creature.
The thick layers of fat on the mutant's body absorbed the hailing bullets like a sandbag, barely showing any sign of damage.
'Da da da da…'
Each submachine gun magazine held only thirty rounds. In the span of just over ten seconds, the entire armed brigade—more than forty soldiers—unleashed over a thousand rounds into the creature's towering form.
Spent bullet casings rattled to the ground at their feet.
But despite the massive firepower, the sight before them left the guards frozen in horror.
The gunfire ceased. Silence fell, but none of the soldiers moved. They stared, horrified, at the monster before them, forgetting in their shock to even reload their weapons.
The bullets, enough to tear a mammoth to shreds, were embedded deep into the creature's massive, blubbery flesh. Chunks of meat squirmed and writhed grotesquely, as if alive. But then, to their disbelief, the sunken flesh sprang back, as if repelling the damage at an impossible speed—nearly as fast as the bullets had hit.
"Cover!" shouted the commander, but as soon as the words left his mouth, a single bullet shot straight through his forehead. His body collapsed before he could even comprehend what had happened. In the next heartbeat, a flurry of bullets followed, riddling his corpse with holes, reducing him to a lifeless sieve.
Half of the brigade, more than forty men, were wiped out in the blink of an eye.
The survivors stood frozen, their trembling hands useless, overwhelmed by a terror that paralyzed them. This... this was absolute power. Crushing, inescapable power.
The will to fight is fueled by hope, and only when hope flickers can courage endure. But without hope, even the strongest will shatters like dust in the wind.
And now, hope was obliterated.
Not far from the factory, on a small hillside, a small group of reporters looked on, mouths agape, disbelief etched across their faces. The one holding the camera turned to the woman beside him, his voice shaking.
"Sister Ruri... should we keep going?"
This was the same Ruri who had appeared on De M-anila TV that very morning. Her face was pale, her confidence eroded by the horrific sight below.
Ruri was known for being ambitious—an aggressive climber in the media world. In just over a year, she had risen from a lowly reporter to her current prominent position, a feat that clearly came with a bit of "help" from both her skills and connections.
But it wasn't enough for her. Not yet.
When news of the mysterious zombie virus broke, official channels kept most reports heavily censored. Still, Ruri, always hungry for a story, recognized the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in front of her. She wasn't about to let it slip away.
So, the moment she heard of the disturbance near the De M-anila Ocean Blue area, she rushed over with her team, right after finishing her morning broadcast. It was all done quietly, in secret.
The TV station had banned any reporting on the topic of the zombie virus. But Ruri knew the risks and still brought only a small crew—just Tad, the cameraman who graduated from De M-anila University, whose interest in her was all too clear. She wasn't sure anyone else would've been willing to come along on such a dangerous mission.
What Ruri hadn't expected, however, was the monstrous being now standing in front of her.
Biting down hard on her lower lip, her mind raced, though she wasn't even sure what she was holding onto anymore.
Suddenly, an explosion ripped through the air. The ground beneath her shook slightly from the force of it.
Startled, she turned toward the source of the blast. Tad, who had been watching the unfolding chaos, was the first to speak.
"They used grenades!"
Grenades!
Ruri's eyes widened as she turned back toward the factory. Smoke and debris filled the air, obscuring everything from view. For a brief moment, nothing could be seen.
But through the thick haze, a piercing, blood-curdling scream echoed across the factory grounds, sending chills through Ruri's spine.
She felt a cold dread creeping over her. Because there, standing in the smoke and dust, was the monstrous figure—still intact. Shrapnel had lodged in its body, yes, but all it had done was draw a bit of blackened blood. The injuries were superficial at best, nothing more than scratches.
Then, Ruri saw something that froze her in place. The hulking monstrosity, standing amid the carnage, grabbed one of the armed guards. The creature lifted him effortlessly, shoving the helpless man into its massive, gaping maw, devouring him whole. Its soulless, monstrous eyes turned toward her.
And in that instant, Ruri knew—she would die!