"This subway station has become Grand Central for all the crazies lately," Thomas muttered, quickly donning his gear. Two minutes later, he was fully equipped.
He hesitated, then swapped his MP5 for the Mosin-Nagant. He chambered a 7.62x54mm Level 3 armor-piercing round, loaded four more into the internal magazine, and slung the rifle over his shoulder. He pulled the hood of his Shadow Cloak over his head and melted into the darkness.
The red blip on his mental map had just emerged from the tunnel into the station's main hall. Thomas waited, concealed behind a massive pillar near his hideout entrance.
The crunch of boots on ice grew closer, accompanied by a beam of light and a distinct red laser.
"A laser sight! Fancy," Thomas thought, pressing himself deeper into the shadows. This invader was well-equipped. Tactical accessories were still rare, even for him.
The invader moved quickly, clearly not expecting company. He swept his flashlight across intersections before moving on.
As he passed Thomas's pillar, heading towards the tunnel on the opposite side, Thomas peeked out. The invader was a seasoned fighter, decked out in high-end gear. His primary weapon, bristling with attachments, was particularly impressive. He wore a light ballistic vest, protecting only his chest and back.
Once the invader was fifty meters out, Thomas crept to the side of the pillar and lay prone on the cold marble floor. He brought the Mosin-Nagant to his shoulder, the icy chill seeping through his clothes. He forced himself to breathe slowly and steadily.
He looked through the 4x scope. The invader, now sixty meters away, filled the view. He adjusted the magnification, centering the crosshairs on the enemy's chest. He hesitated, then shifted his aim to the head. He couldn't risk the vest having high-level plates.
He held his breath, compensating for the slight sway of the invader's head as he walked. He waited for the perfect moment.
The invader took a step, paused for a fraction of a second before the next. BANG!
The Mosin roared, the sound echoing through the station. Through the scope, Thomas saw the flashlight clatter to the floor. He grinned, quickly removing his Digital Earmuffs. The earmuffs had dampened the shot, but his shoulder still throbbed from the recoil.
He checked himself for injuries, then slung the Mosin and headed towards the body. The red blip was gone.
Twenty meters out, he saw a headless corpse illuminated by the fallen flashlight. He hurried forward. The bullet had hit the invader's neck, severing the head cleanly. It lay a couple of meters away.
The gruesome sight made Thomas gag, but he quickly regained control. He looted the body and hurried back to his hideout. He returned to meticulously erase any trace of his presence, then retreated back inside.
He ignored the looted gear for now, focusing on the invader's backpack and pouches. He hoped to find a clue as to why they were there.
Inside a pouch, he found a map.
[Sparrow City White Tower District Hospital Floor Plan]
Type: Intel Item
Inventory Size: 2x1
Description: A detailed floor plan of the City Hospital. Might be of interest to certain individuals.
The hospital director's office was marked in red. It all clicked into place. This was likely the client from the botched hospital job, sending another agent after the keycard.
Thomas sighed. His list of enemies was growing. He was thankful for his anonymity.
He found another map, identical to his own White Tower District map, but this one marked the "Sparrow City Opera House" as "HQ." Another refugee gang. Apparently, marking your headquarters on a map was standard practice. This map was a welcome replacement for the one he'd used to build the Intel Center.
But the most intriguing find was a key, blood-red in color.
[Abandoned Factory Rune Key]
Type: Abandoned Factory Key
Use: Unlocks a marked room on the second floor of the Abandoned Factory in Sparrow City's White Tower District.
Description: A mysterious key to a door in the Abandoned Factory. Bears strange symbols.
The key felt ominous. He tucked it away and examined his next find – a letter.
"Ghostface, I can finally contact you. The Butcher has betrayed you. He captured the hospital director, your brother, to get the lab access keycard. But something went wrong last night. The two wanderers sent to retrieve the keycard disappeared!"
"Ghostface, when can I embrace the Lord? I have prepared a room on the second floor of the Abandoned Factory, ready for the ritual. I await your response. – The Saber."
"Holy shit…" Thomas was stunned. Refugee gang warfare, corporate espionage, and cultist conspiracies? This apocalypse was getting complicated.
So, The Saber was a double agent, working for Ghostface while pretending to be loyal to The Butcher. And he wanted to become a cultist. Ambitious.
The key was likely for The Saber's room in the factory. And the two men at the hospital weren't sent by the director, but by The Butcher, targeting the lab keycard. The director, Ghostface's brother, was The Butcher's captive.
"What is so special about this lab?" Thomas wondered. "What kind of experiments are they running?"
He made a note of his questions, then turned to the looted gear.
The primary weapon was an AK-101, decked out with a tactical flashlight/laser combo, a muzzle brake, a 2x32 scope, and a foregrip. Thomas hefted the weapon, impressed. The scope was especially nice, allowing for quick transitions between close and long-range engagements.
The rest of the gear was unremarkable. The Level 4 armor was beneath his current setup. The pistol and knife were standard issue. The only other item of interest was two grenades in the invader's pouch.
[RGO Grenade] x2
Type: Throwable Weapon
Inventory Size: 1x1
Detonation Delay: 0.3 seconds on impact (3.5 seconds if no impact)
Throwing Strength: 55
Blast Radius: 2-7 meters
Concussion Radius: 12 meters
Shrapnel: 85xF1 fragments
Description: An impact-fused grenade designed for close-quarters combat.
"Now this is interesting," Thomas thought. Impact-fused grenades. Like super-deadly slap bracelets. Perfect for close-quarters combat, but risky to use.
It was almost midnight. Thomas tidied up and went to bed.
The frigid air of the early polar vortex gripped Sparrow City. Fires raged in the refugee camps, fueled by furniture and books. The power flickered, unstable in the cold. Survivors caught outside huddled in abandoned buildings, shivering in the darkness, too afraid to risk fire or light. Desperate pleas for help filled the chat channels, mostly unanswered.
Thomas woke up on day seven. He shivered as he climbed out of bed. The fire in his fireplace had died down, and the hideout was cold. He rekindled the fire and checked the chat channels. He froze, then went to wash up.
Over five hundred survivors had died overnight. The temperature had plummeted to -10°C. Photos in the chat showed a city shrouded in dark clouds, wind whipping through the streets. The blizzard was coming.
Panic filled the chat channels. No one dared venture outside. The fear of illness compounded the dangers of the cold. A few opportunistic survivors hawked overpriced warming supplies.
Thomas, seeing the messages, posted his Nourishing Mutton Stew offer in the chat. He checked the Medical Station, finding only three bandages. He then opened the Super Monopoly screen, rubbing his hands together. This was the last day before the disaster. He needed a big win.
"Lord Guan, God of War and Wealth, grant me good fortune today!"
He rolled the dice. It stopped.
[2]
His miniature avatar hopped two spaces, landing on a gift box.
"Survivor receives a gift – [Living Vine]."