2026-02-20 18:01:00From atop the cold turret of the M1 Abrams tank, Alexander surveyed the chaos before him with a gaze almost devoid of emotion. In the distance, at the foot of the Porong Prison wall, thousands of the undead were crushing each other, stepping on their comrades' heads, snapping their brothers' spines, just to climb one centimeter higher.
To most, the sight was repulsive. A canvas of rotting flesh. But to Alexander, it was art. It was the manifestation of a persistence that
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CHAPTER 73: TRAIL OF THE TRAITOR'S BLOOD
Outside the walls of Porong Prison, the war raged with hellish intensity. The sound of grenade explosions, Brute roars, and Satria’s command shouts created a deafening wall of noise. However, the chaos provided the perfect cover for a rat to sneak into the granary.Andy moved through the shadows of the rear administration block corridor.He didn't run in panic. His footsteps, clad in military leather boots gifted by Alexander, landed carefully on the ceramic floor. He wore a black combat uniform now dirty with dust from the east wall ruins where he had slipped in earlier.His eyes were wild, scanning the surroundings with a mix of disgust and awe."So this is your sandcastle, Satria?" Andy muttered softly, touching the newly painted wall. "You really built a happy household here, while I had to lick boots to survive."The hatred in Andy’s heart burned hotter. He felt
CHAPTER 72: SHOWDOWN AT PORONG PRISON
The concrete dust billowing from the collapse of the East Wall wasn't just a gray cloud; it was the curtain rising on a massacre.As the dust particles began to settle, the first scream was heard. Not a scream of shock, but a scream of pure agony that split the afternoon air into shards of terror."THEY'RE IN! RUN! GET THE KIDS TO THE GYM!"The shout came from Mr. Harun. The old mechanic stood trembling in front of his workshop, holding a large monkey wrench. Behind him, Lisa and the women from the laundry group ran in panic, dragging hysterically crying children.From the dust fog, hunched silhouettes emerged.Hunters.They didn't walk. They glided, moving like lizards accelerated ten times over, lunging into the open prison courtyard. Their red eyes glowed with hunger, targeting the slowest, weakest, most tender meat.A Hunter leaped on
CHAPTER 71: BOOMERS AND SPITTERS
The ground shook. Not the rhythmic tremor of thousands of undead footsteps, but a single, deep, destructive vibration, as if the earth's core beneath Porong Prison was cracking.Satria, standing on the North Wall catwalk, felt the shockwave travel from his feet to his teeth. He had just prepared to face the ladder of climbing corpses, but the threat suddenly changed shape.From behind the line of Brutes acting as meat shields, a new variant emerged that the Porong survivors had never seen before. They didn't run fast like Runners, nor were they muscular like Brutes. They waddled, their bodies grotesquely swollen, skin stretched transparent to reveal churning green liquid inside.Boomers. Walking biological bombs.And behind them stood hunched creatures with long necks that swelled like cobras. Their mouths dripped smoking liquid constantly.Spitters. Organic artillery.&nb
CHAPTER 70: FLASHBACK FROM HELL
From atop the cold turret of the M1 Abrams tank, Alexander surveyed the chaos before him with a gaze almost devoid of emotion. In the distance, at the foot of the Porong Prison wall, thousands of the undead were crushing each other, stepping on their comrades' heads, snapping their brothers' spines, just to climb one centimeter higher.To most, the sight was repulsive. A canvas of rotting flesh. But to Alexander, it was art. It was the manifestation of a persistence that living, breathing humans lacked."Look at them," Alexander murmured, his voice nearly swallowed by the roar of war in the distance. "They don't hesitate. They don't fear. They have no ego. They are a single, unified purpose."A hot wind struck his pale face, carrying the metallic scent of blood so familiar. This scent... the smell of mass death... suddenly pulled a trigger inside his head. A memory he had buried under the ice of his heart for the past ye
CHAPTER 69: THE FIRST WAVE
"HOLD! NO ONE SHOOTS YET!"Satria’s voice boomed, cutting through the noise of the wind and the roar of thousands of approaching undead. He stood on the edge of the North Wall catwalk, his hands gripping the iron railing until his knuckles turned white. His sharp eyes locked onto the movement of the black wave down below.The heart of every person on that wall pounded hard, in rhythm with the tremors in the ground caused by the footsteps of thousands of monsters."Two hundred meters... one hundred fifty meters..." Rizal hissed beside Satria, his eyes never leaving the distance markers they had painted white on the barren ground outside the fortress. His finger trembled on the trigger of his assault rifle."Let them hit," Satria ordered coldly. "We need them bunched up in the kill zone. Save bullets. Use spears and arrows for the initial wave."In the distance, Alexander&rsq
CHAPTER 68: THE LEGION OF THE DEAD
The air raid siren installed by Mr. Harun atop the water tower howled loudly, a hoarse sound that tore through the peaceful afternoon at Porong Prison. The sound was the death knell for the illusion of safety they had built for almost two weeks.Below, in the newly tidied courtyard, panic exploded."What is that?! What sound is that?!""Oh God! Look at the toll road!""We're going to die! We're all going to die!"The survivors who had been relaxing or farming were now running helter-skelter. Hartono dragged his wife and children into the cell block. Lisa, the medical student, dropped her hoe and stood frozen, her face deathly pale as she stared at the northern horizon.Bima, still in the watchtower with Satria, trembled so violently he almost dropped the binoculars."Boss... that... that's not just regular zombies," Bima whispered. "They're marching, Boss. Like... l
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