Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 183: I Want to Know for Sure

The ruins of Cubao steamed beneath a blood-red sky.

It had been less than an hour since the Colossal Worm collapsed in a thunderous heap, its final death throes shaking the bones of the city one last time. Now, ash and scorched debris blanketed the landscape, glowing faintly in the heat of residual fires and the flicker of Overwatch's aerial flares.

From the northern approach, three modified JLTVs rolled cautiously through the fractured remains of EDSA.

Inside the lead vehicle, Phillip adjusted the mic on his headset.

"Shadow One to Command. We're approaching the kill zone. Visual confirmation in two minutes. Advise all units: air's thick with particulate ash and acidic vapor. Gas masks are mandatory."

"Copy that, Shadow One," replied Marcus from the MOA Command Center. "Reaper One-One has eyes on your movement. Thermal tracking green. Proceed with caution."

The convoy slowed as it crossed over a collapsed pedestrian overpass. Concrete slabs had fused into jagged blackened ridges. Melted steel beams jutted upward like fangs.

And then—past the smoke—the corpse came into view.

A mountain of rotting flesh. A monument of death.

The Colossal Worm lay in a massive crater at the heart of what had once been the Araneta Center. Its upper torso—now ruptured and slumped sideways—spilled viscera and gelatinous fluids across several city blocks. A thick river of yellow-green bile oozed from its mouth, mixing with the rain-slicked rubble.

"Jesus Christ…" one of the soldiers in the rear JLTV muttered, eyes wide behind his visor.

"Hold formation," Phillip ordered. "This thing might be dead, but I don't want to be its lunch if it twitches."

The vehicles stopped at a safe distance—roughly 300 meters from the primary mass. Ground troops in full Overwatch HAZMAT suits dismounted, rifles slung but eyes alert.

They moved in silence, boots crunching on glass and broken bone.

From the command center, Thomas stood with arms crossed, watching the helmet cam feed as it broadcast onto the central monitor. The footage was jagged—constant flickers from the residual heat and interference from plasma discharge—but clear enough.

He could see it now.

The gaping wound at the base of the creature's neck, blackened and torn open like a hollow volcano. The burned flaps of meat that once protected its plasma sac were shriveled and still leaking internal residue, pooling into acidic smoke along the crater floor.

Marcus leaned in beside him. "Vitals?"

"No bioelectric activity. Drone sensors are showing full temperature decay. No heartbeat. No spiking gas emissions either."

Thomas nodded, but his eyes didn't leave the screen.

"I want ground confirmation," he said flatly. "Tissue samples. Mass estimate. Scan for any residual neural signals. We've seen what these things can do. No risks."

Back on the ground, Shadow One advanced up a slope of ruptured concrete slabs.

Phillip climbed atop a rusted out LRT car half-buried in the worm's remains. From there, he could see the entire kill zone.

The worm was coiled in partial segments, its length stretching deeper into collapsed infrastructure like a snake halfway buried in its burrow. Chunks of its armor were missing, blown away by artillery and strafing runs. Exposed flesh twitched from thermal contraction, but there were no signs of muscle response.

"Command, this is Shadow One. We are within forty meters of the primary body. No movement. No defense. Target appears fully neutralized."

"Confirmed," Marcus replied. "Proceed with internal survey. Sample teams are greenlit."

Two techs moved in with drone launchers, releasing quadcopters outfitted with infrared cameras and micro-samplers. The small drones zipped into the open wounds of the beast, scanning and retrieving fragments of organic tissue.

Phillip continued his walk around the corpse, careful to avoid the glowing pools of acid-like plasma near the throat.

"Internal cavity looks like it imploded," he said into his mic. "Based on damage radius and splash pattern, I'd say the Griffin missiles ruptured its primary plasma chamber. The rest of the detonation cooked its spine from the inside out."

On one of the nearby monitors, the drone camera fed in a chilling image—an enormous spinal nerve cluster blackened with char. Thick bundles of flesh, now inert, once responsible for the beast's twitching tendrils and grotesque mobility.

Phillip stepped up beside Thomas and exhaled through his nose. "You think there's more of these?"

Thomas didn't answer at first. He studied the exposed muscle fibers, the gaping mouth frozen open in a final death rattle, and the tattered remnants of what had once been a living engine of destruction.

"I think we just killed a prototype," he said. "And whoever—or whatever—is behind it… was watching."

"Sir," Phillip reported again, "we've located what appears to be a secondary organ system—some kind of secondary heart. Burned out, but intact enough for collection. Sending coordinates now."

Thomas turned away from the monitor.

"That's enough," he said quietly. "Suit up the Rover."

Marcus blinked. "Sir? You want to head out there?"

"I do," Thomas said. "I need to see it myself."

Marcus frowned. "System already confirmed the kill. Shadow's confirming. Why risk it?"

Thomas looked over at him. "Because we've never killed something like this before. And I don't trust confirmation screens and sensor logs when it comes to monsters that tunnel through cities and survive bunker busters."

He turned toward the command crew.

"Prep a bird. I want boots on the ground in ten."

Fifteen minutes later, Thomas stood atop a scorched parking structure overlooking the creature's remains.

The smell was worse than anything the cameras conveyed—like sulfur, meat, and burning plastic all mixed into one. Even through his mask, the stench clawed its way into his lungs.

The ground crunched beneath his boots as he walked toward the edge of the crater, Phillip falling in behind him.

The worm was… horrifying. Even in death, it radiated power.

Seeing it up close, Thomas felt the sheer scale of what they had destroyed.

It was a reminder.

Of the stakes.

Of what could rise next.

He crouched beside the largest exposed wound—where the Griffin had entered—and peered into the mess of shattered armor and melted bone.

It was quiet now.

Dead.

Finally.

He stood, slowly.

"All teams," he spoke into his comms. "This is Eagle Actual. The Colossal Worm is confirmed neutralized. Prepare for Phase Two: extraction of materials and full biohazard sweep."

Then he looked back at the corpse.

Even monsters die.

And Thomas would make sure this one stayed dead.