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Log entry #000574
Code: Nicotine.
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Death.
The silencer of many. The reason the rest clamber for anything to save them.
Once, they sought weapons, then armor to counter the weapons, then bigger weapons to counter the armor. And the cycle continued.
Until someone remembered the smaller the weapon, the harder it was to detect and counter. A bio weapon.
It started out as a natural outbreak. Small control group in china for testing. Only, the project got out of hand.
Rapid re-cycle rate, unforeseen environmental adaptations, and worst of all, human ignorance.
Gradually the world saw its demise, smaller governments fell, and larger ones who sought cures all came to the same conclusion: The group who created this weapon made it with one cure.
Extreme heat or cold. And naught else.
Eventually, hotter heads prevailed, and on that day of September 22nd, 2020, the world experienced what could only be known as the Metro Reality Check.
An agreed simultaneous detonation of all nuclear warheads across the world.
Uninfected populations forced underground, while anyone infected remained above, to die to the waves of atomic fire.
The endgame, a coalition project between America and Russia to create Tzar 7, the largest thermonuclear device ever conceived, was the last to be launched, in an attempt to wipe the world clean by forcing a world wide literal scorched earth policy. Its subsequent atmospheric detonation rained what those still alive called "Burning Heaven Shards" down across the globe.
The project and event itself, unofficially dubbed "Humanities Last Fuck You to God", turned the above world into a ruined, barren wasteland. Sealed underground, the remaining survivors hunkered down, and agreed to face fate.
Humanity had avoided the true purpose of what transpired. It was time for us to move on from this world. We were meant to die. But we selfish mammals refused to accept it.
Railways, bunkers, caves, catacombs. They became our home. And we sought to survive by any means necessary.
Factions of the old world still leaked in down here however. Political views, ideologies, religions. All relics of the old world.
Once, a secret war had raged in Nevada. The Antithesis vs The AAHW. An old friend of mine, Hank J Wimbolton, along with two of the craziest operatives I ever knew, put an end to it. We were in peace. Until the pandemic.
When I was young, and the war was still in its first grippings of dealing death and changing reality, we fought under the guidance of our Higher Powers. After the war, I never knew what became of them. Probably returned to their realm, and forgot about us humans. Ha, every other human I should say.
I was mutated during the war. Improbable energy experiments by my adoptive father, who I have come to forgive over time. They have allowed me to survive this long, and even permit me travel in the above world with less equipment than anyone else would need. Helpful to keep tabs.
Glorified messenger boy I am now. I never knew what happened to the others. All I knew was my family was in my country of birth instead of America, so they sought shelter there in the bunkers of a country of peace. While I sought shelter in a country of war.
Hank? I don't know what happened to him, his companions, or his own family. Knowing him, he probably ate a nuke to the face for Cathey and shrugged it off as a flesh wound.
I've hooked up with remnants of Antithesis and AAHW that banded together under the goal of trying to keep above world peace, while also keeping the underground as safe as possible.
But this is just here in what remains of the so-called "Land of The Free". I question how other countries fared. We received contact from a few, notably Russia and Germany, but many others are silent.
I finish this log as I stare out over what little remains of the once bustling and violent Nexus Core. Now, it's no more than a quiet resting place for those that died before the bombs, and those after.
Powers be damned. Fuckin tried to play god and only half assed it in the end because one of them got sick of their bullshit and disjointed. Maybe he had a valid point. Maybe the virus wouldn't have existed had they won.
This is all conjecture. Our war long since ended. No point in wallowing in the far past now. Gotta look forward to the future, or whatever's left of it to scrape up and serve on a cracked platter for sharing between those of us that remain.
13th Scouting, Drake Jameson Anderson, log end.
Log ended.
Checking for data…
Beacon 030 reports sandstorm of intensity 4. Radiation of 80%
Recommended action:
Run. And don't look back.