Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 162: Phillip, You Got This

​The reclaimed airfield at the MOA Complex buzzed with anticipation. Phillip, known by his callsign Shadow 0-1, stood at attention alongside his ten-man Special Operations unit. Each soldier, designated from Shadow 2 to Shadow 11, was clad in advanced combat gear, their faces obscured by tactical visors reflecting the early morning sun.​

The growl of an approaching JLTV broke the stillness. The vehicle rolled across the tarmac, tires spitting dust as it came to a stop ten meters in front of the team. The doors opened.

Thomas Estaris stepped out.

He wore a black Overwatch field coat, collar up, no armor on him—just command. His eyes scanned the line of soldiers without a word.

Phillip snapped to attention.

"Sir."

The rest of Shadow Team followed in unison.

Thomas returned the salute with a firm nod. "At ease."

They relaxed, but only just. Phillip stepped forward.

Thomas gestured to the twin Black Hawks being fueled nearby. "A situation's developing. A new entity—non-mobile, but broadcasting a signal across the city. It erupted from Cubao about twelve hours ago. We didn't know about it until a Reaper drone picked up the EM spike and visuals."

He turned back to Phillip and handed him a folded tablet.

Phillip tapped it open. What he saw made him squint.

A single frame. A fixed structure. A tower of biological and metallic mass. One long body, rooted in place. Its mouth was a spiral of bone, and light pulsed from within like a beating heart made of energy.

"Designation," Thomas said. "Colossal Worm. System confirmed it as a Tier Omega target."

Phillip frowned. "Never heard that classification before."

"It's new," Thomas replied grimly. "System assigned it as Apocalyptic Threat. Our mission parameter is simple: we need eyes on it. We need to know what it is, what it's doing, and how to kill it—if killing it is even possible."

"Recon only?"

"For now. If it reacts, defend yourselves. If it doesn't—watch. Record. Learn."

Phillip nodded and handed the tablet back. "Understood."

Thomas stepped forward and extended a fist.

Phillip smirked faintly and bumped it with his own.

"Be careful out there," Thomas said.

"Always."

The Black Hawks lifted from the runway in tandem, blades slicing through the humid air, engines roaring above the growing sprawl of the base below. From the door gunner's perch, Shadow 5 glanced out the open side. The ruins of Pasay gave way to Makati's fractured skyline, the bones of glass towers jutting toward the sky like broken spears.

Inside one of the birds, Phillip adjusted his headset. "All Shadows, check in."

"Shadow 2, green."

"Shadow 3, green."

The rest followed in quick sequence.

As they closed in on Quezon City, the chatter died. They didn't need to talk.

They all saw it.

The Colossal Worm rose above Cubao like an ancient god woken from the crust of the earth. It towered above the shattered remains of Araneta Center, taller than any remaining building, and worse—alive.

Its mouth glowed with deep violet energy, pulsing in slow, steady intervals like it was breathing.

"Jesus," one of the Shadows muttered.

Phillip's eyes narrowed. "Hold altitude. Circle pattern. Drone launch prepped?"

"Affirmative," replied the co-pilot.

The launch bay opened, and a scout drone buzzed out, banking toward the Worm's crown. The drone's camera fed directly into the cockpit displays, showing sharp, high-res footage of the creature's plating—red-black and armored, like segmented chitin. Along the base, massive roots extended outwards, corrupting the structures around it.

"Signal holding," the co-pilot said. "We're getting thermal reads—wait—EM spike!"

Phillip's eyes snapped to the screen.

The drone had drifted too close.

Above the Worm's spiral mouth, something shifted.

The core opened wider. A pulse of light.

The drone feed began to distort.

"Back it up!" Phillip ordered.

Too late.

The Worm fired.

A lance of violet plasma, wide as a truck, erupted from its mouth. It struck the air directly ahead—no tracking, just pure reaction. But the Black Hawk carrying Phillip had just begun its second pass… and the plasma clipped the tail rotor.

The blast didn't explode. It cut.

The rear rotor sheared off in a clean spiral.

"Tail hit! Tail hit!" the pilot screamed.

Phillip barely had time to grab the safety bar before the bird spun violently. The world outside became a blur of rooftops and smoke.

"Brace for crash!" the co-pilot shouted.

The Black Hawk slammed into the side of an old office building, blades carving through support beams as the chopper skidded into a rooftop and rolled. Sparks. Screams. Then blackness.

When Phillip opened his eyes, it was to the groaning of metal and the thick taste of smoke in his throat.

He coughed, unbuckled, and crawled out of the wreckage.

"Shadows! Status!"

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"Alive," Shadow 2 grunted nearby, helping another man out.

"Shadow 4 down. Pilot and co-pilot—unconscious. Serious trauma."

Phillip rolled the pilot over. Blood pooled from a head wound. The co-pilot's arm was mangled, bone visible through the sleeve.

"Stabilize them," he ordered. "Get them under cover."

Then he heard it.

The distant chorus of shrieks.

From all directions.

"Contact inbound," Shadow 5 said grimly, peeking over the shattered edge of the rooftop.

Dozens of infected swarmed toward the wreckage, drawn by the fire, the sound, the smell.

Phillip pulled his carbine from its sling.

"Perimeter form-up! Defensive positions! Prepare to engage!"

Shadow Team moved like one. Rifles up, safeties off, they took cover behind steel beams and broken concrete. From the rooftop edge, they saw the first wave emerge from the alleyways—shamblers, runners, and new ones with jagged limbs and glowing chests.

Phillip keyed his mic.

"Overwatch Command, this is Shadow 0-1. Recon flight downed. Casualties moderate. We've located the target, and it's more than just a structure. We're under immediate threat. Requesting emergency QRF. Grid marker uploading now."

The comms hissed. No reply.

The signal was jammed.

Of course it was.

He turned to his team. "We hold here until help arrives—or until we carve a path out."

Shadow 3 looked toward the Worm, still glowing, still watching.

"That thing's not just a monster," he said. "It's a goddamn signal tower."

Phillip stared at it.

And clenched his jaw.

"Then let's make sure it hears us."

He raised his weapon.

The first infected came over the rooftop edge.

Phillip fired.

The battle had begun.

And they weren't done yet.