Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

The ground assault resumed.

The M109A7 Paladins, repositioned atop pre-cleared overpasses, fired in perfect synchronized intervals. Their barrels belched fire and smoke as 155mm shells soared skyward before arcing back toward the broken cityscape. The high-explosive rounds punched deep into the ruined earth, surrounding the wounded titan with thunderclaps of kinetic fury.

One shell landed directly onto the worm's exposed spinal ridge—what had once been a tough, armored shell now softened by continuous fire. The impact split the segment open with a fleshy crack, as if cleaving through cartilage.

A roar followed.

Not seismic. Not felt.

Heard.

For the first time since the battle began, the Colossal Worm screamed audibly—an earth-rattling, guttural howl that echoed across the Quezon skyline like a death knell.

In the cockpit of Echo-Four, Hargrave's face twitched. "Jesus Christ…"

"Focus!" Phillip's voice snapped over comms. "It's not dead until it stops moving!"

High above, Hammer-Two's Warthog began its second run.

"Guns hot," the pilot barked. "Avenger primed. Lining up the dorsal tract."

The 30mm GAU-8/A cannon came alive again, vomiting depleted uranium shells into the exposed section just behind the worm's shattered plasma gland. The rounds tore deep, carving long furrows of ruptured tissue. Red mist gushed like a geyser. Something snapped within the beast, and it lurched hard to the left—its full weight collapsing into a scorched section of debris.

A shockwave rolled outward, flattening a half-toppled SM Cubao sign like paper.

"Brace for collapse!" one drone operator warned.

But the pilots stayed their course.

Below, Viper Two-Three performed a wide arc before dipping behind a skeletal mall. They emerged between rusting steel beams and fired another full pod of Hydra 70 rockets into the worm's flank. Smoke trails and detonations stitched a path up its side.

Symbiotes tried to swarm up to reinforce the creature—but most were already limping, bleeding, or dead.

They were no longer support.

They were meat caught in the grinder.

"Secondary motion!" a spotter shouted in the command center.

Reaper One-One's feed zoomed in—showing the creature's mouth opening wide again, but it didn't charge a plasma blast this time.

Instead, tendrils burst from within.

Thick, sinewy appendages—four of them—lashed outward like whips, grabbing at debris and dragging more mass toward its body. Rebar, broken corpses, even burning symbiote husks—it pulled them in.

"What is it doing?" Marcus asked, brows furrowed.

"Feeding," Thomas growled. "Or evolving again. Either way, stop it."

The order echoed across all comms.

From above, Ghostrider-Three took a sharp orbit to align the 105mm cannon. Fire Control locked onto the mouth of the beast—where tendrils spasmed and coiled.

"Target locked. Firing."

The cannon boomed.

The shell entered mid-pull—just as a new chunk of writhing symbiote was being dragged inward.

Detonation.

The explosion was violent. The tendrils snapped in all directions like blown wiring, flailing blindly before crumpling limp into the dirt. A gout of black, boiling bile gushed upward—coating half the worm's remaining armor.

Its mouth sagged open, hissing now, not roaring. Not screaming.

Choking.

It tried to rise, but a second howitzer round slammed into its right eye cluster. A spray of yellowish fluid splattered across the crater. One eye was gone—its remaining orbs fluttering wildly like a creature truly in panic.

"Hit it again!" Thomas shouted. "Finish it!"

At that moment, Raven Flight arrived.

From behind the elevated remains of EDSA flyovers, Shadow Team's air insertion squad soared in on fast low-altitude heliborne approach. Two Black Hawks flanked their EC635 recon bird, modified with stabilized cameras and a laser designator.

"Target locked," came Ghost's voice over the recon channel. "Marking with laser now. Send the payload."

"Roger that, Raven," Marcus confirmed. "Griffins en route. ETA twenty seconds."

From above, Ghostrider-One and Two loosed their remaining AGM-176 Griffin missiles. Guided by the green dot painting the worm's midsection, they tracked low—piercing through smoke and flame—and slammed into the base of its neck, where its spine met the crater.

Direct hits.

The explosions erupted deep inside, the twin blasts blowing out the surrounding armor in twin gouts of fire and shredded tissue.

The Colossal Worm lurched upward one final time.

Its head snapped toward the heavens, mouth wide open in a voiceless cry.

Then it collapsed.

Hard.

The impact cracked the surrounding rubble like an earthquake. Debris flung outward. A final spray of blood jetted from its back as internal organs failed catastrophically.

It stopped moving.

For a full ten seconds—no one spoke.

No one breathed.

From the command center, Marcus slowly stepped toward the monitors. "Reaper confirms… no movement. Plasma sacs cold. No seismic motion."

"Thermals?" Thomas asked, voice even.

"Dropping fast. Like a body cooling."

Phillip exhaled. "It's done."

A soft chime echoed in Thomas's mind.

His system interface flickered to life before his eyes, glowing with a deep crimson shimmer as a notification window expanded at the center of his vision.

[Mission Complete: Target Eliminated: Colossal Worm]

[Reward Earned:

Blood Coins: +10,000,000

Experience Gained: +1,000,000 EXP]

Thomas blinked as the numbers settled. His vision returned to the dim glow of the command center, but the weight behind the screen lingered.

It was over.

For real this time.

The blood coins weren't just currency—they were proof. Tangible confirmation from the system itself that the worm had died. Not fled. Not retreated. Died.

Even so, Thomas wasn't the type to trust a screen alone.

He turned to Marcus.

"Send ground recon. Now."

Marcus didn't hesitate. "Phillip, you are on this along with Ghost and other Shadow Teams. Move out. Full biohazard gear. I want boots in that crater in ten."

Thomas's voice was low but resolute. "No one gets close until we have a visual confirmation on the corpse. I want full spectrum scans. Core sample, if possible."

Phillip nodded from across the table, rubbing his temple with his good hand. "Understood. I'll relay direct to Raven Flight. They'll drop a containment unit and drone team."

The room moved quickly. Orders were issued. Personnel scrambled. The sense of victory was sharp—but not unguarded.

Thomas remained still, hands pressed to the edge of the war table as he stared at the main monitor. The colossal body still lay motionless, its flesh ruptured, its cratered remains smoking under the hellfire barrage they had unleashed.

Even with the system confirming the kill…

He had to see the body.

They all did.

Because in this new world, death wasn't always the end.

And nothing was ever truly over—not until he made sure.