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Chapter 197: Project Prometheus



To put it simply, those old fools who still considered themselves in charge of the former territory of the United States now wanted Zane dead. But he was just one of many targets marked for death within the Wasteland. After all, there were many people who refused to recognize the authority of the Remnant over the lands they used to rule prior to the apocalypse.

It had been six months since the apocalypse began, and the last time anyone had really heard from the United States federal government was during the first month where everything rapidly began to fall apart.

Now that the survivors of the former United States were left to fend for themselves, would they ever really let Uncle Sam back into their lives, even if they came back in full force, proclaiming themselves as the rightful rulers of the wasteland?

Fat chance… Though the IRS may have plans to tax Americans, even during the event of nuclear apocalypse, how many Americans who survived such a disaster would willingly hand over a part of their supplies to a government that failed to protect them? A far more likely scenario would be a freshly dug six foot deep hole in their property.

Such was the sentiment most survivors had towards the American government these days. Though there were whispers of the American government surviving in some capacity within the vast steppes of the wasteland, these were mostly chalked up to be scary stories told at a campfire, sort of like that of the boogeyman.

Nobody took the idea of such a thing to be serious. And yet, that was exactly what was happening. The remnant was what remained of the American Federal Government, whether you want to call it the deep state, the swamp, or any other number of terms that had previously been listed as conspiracy theories prior to the outbreak of the apocalypse.

The fact remained that certain powerful individuals in the American Government had prepared for this eventuality, and hid in their bunkers while society collapsed around them. Now that there was some semblance of law and order in the lands that they once ruled, they wanted to come back and take over.

Anyone who rejected this authority was seen as an outlaw, a criminal, a barbarian even. Even those who collaborated with the Remnant would not have a good fate. Especially if they were someone like Malory, who had previously worked with one of these so-called outlaw settlements.

As a member of the Spades family, the moment Malory was extracted back to the Remnant\'s bunker, she found that the paradise she was promised truly existed. Deep beneath the earth, there was what one might compare to a subterranean city, rather than a mere bunker.

Tens of thousands of people dwelled in this bunker, perhaps even more. All of which were associated with the federal government in some capacity prior to the outbreak of the apocalypse, or were the families of such individuals.

Yet… Malory\'s life in this bunker was one of pure hell. She was quite literally a slave, forced to work in the industrial sector, and slave away at the underground factories meant to supply the Remnant\'s soldiers with the means to fight against the Undead which now controlled this world, and the corrupted outlaws which still dwelled on the surface.

That\'s right. Though the Remnant initially employed blood crystals among their scouts who were sent to gather information on the surface, for whatever reason, they began restricting the use of blood crystals via any means other than experimentation on outlaws. And the same could be said for anything else that resulted from the mysterious system which now "plagued" humanity.

Not only were the humans on the surface above considered outlaws by rejecting the Remnant\'s authority, but now, too, were they considered corrupted, or at least those who survived their "awakening."

The reasons for this were listed in a dossier on the Director of the Bunker\'s desk. A man also referred to by the title of governor, especially from the people under his command. The aide, who always attended him, had a grave expression on his face as he inquired about this very subject.

"So it is true… Is everyone who has been exposed to these so-called blood crystals…."

The elderly white-haired man who governed this subterranean paradise nodded his head, before speaking the words that sent chills down the spine of his aide.

"That\'s correct…. They\'re not human anymore…. Though they\'re not entirely dead, the virus runs through their veins. And with each blood crystal they consume, they lose more and more of what makes them human. I don\'t know if they will all eventually turn into the monsters they so desperately fight against, but at the very least, they are not like us.

Those scouts who have previously consumed blood crystals will be sent to their deaths in the field. Primarily against targets deemed an enemy of America. As for the new crop of scouts which we will begin sending into the wasteland shortly, we have developed a new platform that will help them combat those more dangerous undead.

Such as Abominations, Stalkers, and even those pesky Juggernauts, without the need to corrupt themselves.

As we speak, the factories are working overtime to produce as many sets of this new equipment, equipment mind you that is not manufactured via those abominable "Grim Forges" but rather with good old-fashioned American steel and technology.

Our tests have concluded that the new equipment enhances a soldier\'s lethality by 1,000 percent, making our men now capable of engaging even a Tier V Undead on their own and without the need to corrupt themselves with blood crystals. This new technology, titled Project Prometheus, will be the torch that guides humanity out of the darkness, and back into the light…"

This news was startling but welcome, however despite this good news, there was another far more important question on the aide\'s mind as he asked the question that plagued his mind at this very moment.

"I understand sir, I am sure it will be a great boon to our troops in the field. But… If we are getting rid of the corrupted… Then… What about the collaborators we have brought back to the bunker, the ones currently working in the factories?"

A cold and callous look appeared on the Governor\'s face as he broke out a bottle of scotch and began to drink its contents, entirely dismissing the lives of those which his aide had mentioned while condemning them to their cruel and capricious fates.

"What else? We will work them until they die, and then we will dispose of their corrupted bodies via cremation. Are there any other questions? Or will that be all?"

Utter silence remained as the aide bowed his head respectfully before leaving the Governor\'s personal office. He had no words in response to how the corrupted collaborated would be treated, but orders were orders and he knew better than to question his superiors.


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