Dexter

***"It's December 31st, and I remember a certain holiday being celebrated on this day back in the day. People greeted the New Year with a squeal of joy, expecting unknown delights. Now things are a little different. We don't celebrate it because there's simply no free time. We don't greet the new dawn with a smile on our faces. We're certainly far from a "happy future." But one thing remains constant: we anticipate the unknown that each new second holds. It's 2054. Our technology hasn't developed much, as the infection started back in 2024. The virus then became more powerful, and people were more focused on developing an antidote than on developing technology. Most of the Earth's population couldn't withstand the overwhelming influx of the undead, especially those countries with weak civilizations. The number of survivors dwindled to zero each time, forcing the strongest states to unite. They formed two towers, divided everything into zones, and fought for their lives. The red zone is the safest; you can often meet military personnel, various scientists, and, of course, the commanders-in-chief themselves there. The Blue Zone is where purges are carried out and survivors are found. If the purge is successful, this zone will likely be turned red. The Black Zone is literally a zombie home. These areas are completely isolated from everyone, and entry is prohibited except for experienced squads. *** ─ Having decided that was enough, the man put his diary aside, exchanging his enthusiastic demeanor for a more serious one. He glanced briefly at the new arrivals from the Blue Zone and sighed heavily. He senses there's going to be a lot of work.

"Please pay attention. Survivors, you will now be thoroughly examined and divided into two camps. Those with strong immune systems will be under my wing, that is, the military. Those with weak immune systems will assist the scientists. And then, given your abilities, you may even reach the top." My tongue stung unpleasantly from this painfully memorized greeting