Taylor

Safety rules in the PZIS are strictly regulated—the life of every squad member and the success of the entire mission depend on them.

First and foremost, anyone who isn't a scientist or special forces soldier is ordered to stay as far away from zombies as possible. This isn't just a recommendation, but a mandatory requirement: an unprepared person can easily become the victim of a surprise attack or accidentally trigger a wave of infected. Scientists and special forces operate in risk zones consciously, possessing the necessary skills, equipment, and clear protocols; for everyone else, any proximity to the threat is unnecessarily dangerous.

The rules for handling new zombie species are specifically outlined: if a previously unknown infected individual is discovered, it must under no circumstances be destroyed on the spot. Instead, such an individual must be transported to a laboratory as quickly and carefully as possible for detailed study. These rare specimens may hold the key to understanding the virus's mutations, and therefore they are preserved, their behavior and appearance are carefully recorded, and then handed over to specialists. This approach not only expands the knowledge base about the infection but also promptly identifies potential new threats that could change the course of the entire fight against the epidemic.

Common zombies are the most common type of infected, becoming a familiar backdrop to the apocalyptic world. They are easily recognizable by their gray-green skin, a calm, almost everyday hue—it lacks the frightening brightness of viral specimens, nor the cold sheen of fast zombies. This neutral color can even confuse newcomers: it makes the infected harder to spot among the gray ruins and dilapidated buildings, where shadows and dust blur their outlines.

Despite their "ordinariness," common zombies are no less dangerous. They act instinctively, unthinkingly attacking anything that moves: survivors, animals, and sometimes even other infected. There's no cunning or calculation in their behavior—only blind aggression, which makes them unpredictable: they can attack en masse, creating a dense wave of threat, or emerge from the most unexpected places—basements, dark openings, rubble. It's precisely this chaos and mass nature that makes them a serious problem: even without special abilities, they can overwhelm and wear down their opponents with endless skirmishes.

If such a zombie is limbless—whether they're legless specimens crawling along the ground or armless but still striving forward—this doesn't give them any scientific value. The PZIS labs don't view them as promising research subjects: their mutations are considered secondary, arising after infection due to injury or decomposition, rather than a consequence of the virus's evolution. Therefore, the tactics for dealing with ordinary zombies are extremely straightforward: upon detection, they are immediately neutralized. This isn't cruelty for the sake of cruelty, but cold calculation—the destruction of ordinary infected reduces the overall threat, saves resources, and doesn't distract scientists from studying something that has already been described many times and doesn't yield new data.

The PZIS laboratories have accumulated an impressive classification of studied zombie species—each of them requiring a special approach, and sometimes even unique neutralization tactics.

Fast zombies have become one of the most dangerous types encountered by the PSIS teams. Capturing them is a complex task in itself: special forces operate in a coordinated and precise manner, as the slightest delay can cost their soldiers their lives. These infected are characterized by incredible speed and sharp, unpredictable movements—they are capable of covering great distances in seconds and attacking from an unexpected direction. Their skin is not the usual gray-green, but a characteristic gray-blue color, which serves as a warning sign for soldiers: upon seeing this color, the team immediately goes into high alert.

Viral zombies are an even more insidious threat. They are easily recognized by their purple skin, which seems to glow with an unnatural hue in the dim light of abandoned streets. They move slowly, almost sluggishly, but it is precisely this deceptive slowness that makes them particularly dangerous. Their main problem is their extreme toxicity: even slight contact with the secretions or damaged skin of such a zombie can lead to infection. Because of this, viral zombies are prescribed to be destroyed on sight, rather than captured alive: the risk to researchers and combatants is too great, and the potential benefit of studying them does not justify the risk.

"Explosive" zombies are a species that scientists have already thoroughly studied, but which remain extremely dangerous. The peculiarity of these infected is that any strong impact—a gunshot, a knife strike, or even a strong push—causes them to explode, scattering toxic shrapnel and contaminated matter. Although their mechanism of behavior has long been described and documented, encounters with them still require extreme caution: any mistake can result in serious losses for the squad. This species is currently considered "studied" and, in a sense, "useless" in terms of new discoveries.

Studying zombies at the PZIS is a rigorous, multi-stage process, where every detail is recorded and any deviations are meticulously analyzed. It all begins with capture: special teams track down the infected, proceeding with extreme caution—any misstep could result in disaster. Once a target is identified, tranquilizers are used: the zombies are tranquilized to eliminate the risk of attack and obtain a stable subject for research.

After immobilization, the infected person is carefully transported to headquarters and placed in an isolated glass chamber. This allows scientists to conduct continuous observation, recording the slightest changes in the body's condition, tracking residual reflexes or unusual reactions, even during sleep. First, blood samples are taken from the zombies: their composition is examined under microscopes, identifying viral markers, toxin concentrations, and any anomalies that could explain the nature of the infection. At the same time, specialists collect all available information about the individual's past—identification is established through documents, databases, and personal belongings—to understand how the infection occurred and what factors may have influenced the transformation.

The next stage is a complete anatomical examination. The zombie undergoes surgery, during which all organs are removed. This procedure inevitably results in the creature's death, but it allows scientists to thoroughly study the internal changes caused by the virus: compare the tissues of a healthy person and an infected one, identify mutation sites, and understand which body systems are affected first. Each organ is carefully examined, sections are made, additional samples are taken, and all findings are recorded in reports.

If signs of a new, previously unknown infection—an unusual virus strain or a completely different type of infection—are detected during the study, the samples are urgently transported to the main US laboratory. There, they undergo in-depth analysis using state-of-the-art equipment. Scientists record the results of all tests in a notebook.

Doctors PZIS - Pyat, Lowly, Zhenya, Alexander, Odysseus, Blacksapphire, CandyApple, Youli, Rowe, Audley, Otli, Varya, Snezhka, Hall, Choza, Gustav, Heavy, Elvira, Elizabeth.

There are many. Here are the most famous: Roynya, Gal, Miller, Heinz, Elena, Nike, Age, Far, Housten, Hardworth, Pierre, Kurli, Katya, Tsariz, Vaksvel, Cosmo, Voytuls, Leibla, Leni, Chase, Vann, Linden, Joshua, Ethan, Erni, Ellie, Clara.

This is just a small part of them. There are actually a lot of them.

The PZIS scientists are experienced people and there are many of them at headquarters: Sheik, Viola, Vi, Shelly, Maine, Galst, Ray, ogle, Vaitor, Alena, Sofia, Pyros, Blackswurd, Dayton, Zane, Simon, Rowley, Fire, Nana, Shine, Kempler, Proxy, Centa, Zack, Holly, Molly, Matt, Histy, Daisy, Dolly, Barbara, Foyruli, Ar-Rumi.

This is just a small part, but in reality there are even more.

The PSIS headquarters was both majestic and intimidating—it conveyed a sense of power built not for beauty, but to control chaos. It sprawled across the largest land area in the United States, like a fortified city unto itself: its scale was staggering, and the austere silhouette of its buildings stood out sharply against the scorched landscape. The entire complex was designed in a laconic black style—absent unnecessary embellishments, with sharp lines and massive forms, as if the architectural appearance itself was meant to command respect and discourage approach without permission.

Inside, impeccable order reigned: everything was arranged and aligned with almost military precision, every detail in its place. Particularly eye-catching were the long rows of glass chambers where zombies were kept for research, and adjacent were laboratories where scientists conducted experiments, trying to find a way to stop the spread of the infection. The cool gleam of the glass, the sterile cleanliness of the rooms, and the muted hum of the equipment created an atmosphere of intense work, where the fates of thousands of people hung in the balance.

From the outside, the headquarters was transformed into an impenetrable fortress. A high fence topped with barbed wire served as the first line of defense, and seven German shepherds—large, stately, with wary eyes—stood guard along the perimeter. In quiet moments, they might simply play with each other, chase balls, or lazily bask in the sun. But should an intruder trespass, their demeanor instantly changed: from friendly canines, they transformed into formidable guards, ready to rush to defend the territory on command. This blend of discipline, technology, and human security made the PZIS headquarters one of the most secure locations in the country—a reliable stronghold in a world engulfed in chaos.

It is located in another city where there are a lot of civilians and American people.

Taylor was known as a man without sentimentality—tough, utterly focused, and always prepared for the worst. His seriousness wasn't a pose; it stemmed from years of hardship and bitter experience, when the slightest weakness could cost the life of not only himself but the entire group. He spared no one and didn't allow emotions to influence his decisions—in his world, there was no room for doubt when it came to survival.

Even if he was confronted with an infected child, Tylor didn't hesitate for a second: he perceived a threat as a threat, regardless of the victim's age or past. For him, there were no gray areas—infected meant dangerous, and danger had to be eliminated quickly and reliably. This ruthlessness frightened some and inspired confidence in others: the squad knew Tylor could be relied upon—he wouldn't succumb to panic or risk others' lives out of misguided compassion.

Yet, beneath his cold exterior lay exceptional professionalism. Tylor was incredibly agile and moved with alarming speed—it seemed as if he was ahead of the situation itself. Sometimes a single second was all it took: one moment he'd be standing in the center of the street, and the next he'd be in the shadows of a distant building, silently and precisely, as if melting into space. This lightning-fast reflexes repeatedly saved both him and his partners, turning Tylor into that reliable support everyone counted on in the most hopeless of battles.

Taylor looked like a man accustomed to harsh trials: his appearance was meticulously crafted, clearly created not for beauty but for survival. On his head was a black cowboy hat with a slightly upturned brim, casting a shadow over his face and protecting him from the scorching sun and flying dust. A black bandana, tied tightly around his neck, concealed the lower part of his face—his nose, mouth, cheeks, and neck—protecting him from the acrid dust and contaminated air, while also lending a touch of mystery to his appearance.

He wore a black hooded sweatshirt, simple and understated—no pockets, so nothing would get in the way in combat or snag on debris in the ruins of the city. Over the sweatshirt, he wore a faded, dark green flak jacket—not new, scratched in places, but reliable, having proven its worth in combat many times. His baggy black jeans didn't restrict his movement, and his sturdy black belt held a whole arsenal: various pistols, knives, and other tools essential to such a dangerous endeavor hung from it.

His gear included black shoulder straps, practical knee pads for protection while moving through the ruins, and heavy, thick-soled boots—they reliably protected his feet from sharp debris and allowed him to confidently walk even on the most uneven terrain. A red axe rested on his back, a striking accent to his grim appearance and a weapon he trusted as much as a firearm.