Chapter 149: Final Moments
Scott's eyes widened. "What?" He had expected to be given nominal control, but Zack was handing him actual military power—a rarity in the apocalypse. Even more surprising, the soldiers Zack offered were those who had fought and bled alongside Scott, cementing their loyalty to him.
"Sir Zack, I'll oversee the base, but I can't accept control of the troops, especially not these men," Scott protested, his tone firm but respectful. He knew better than to overreach and invite suspicion.
Zack chuckled, a rare, cold smile gracing his lips. "I understand your concerns, but don't worry. I have measures in place to ensure loyalty." He turned slightly and gestured, his voice commanding. "Let's proceed."
Moments later, the manufacturing bugs rushed in, each carrying syringes loaded with microchips. These devices, no larger than a grain of rice, were designed to integrate seamlessly into the bloodstream, traveling to the brain where they could perform their full suite of functions. Each chip had tracking capabilities, behavior monitoring, and most importantly—a self-destruct mechanism to ensure absolute control. "Behavioral analysis, positioning, and self-destruction," Zack said, holding up one of the syringes and handing it to Scott.
Without hesitation, Scott took the syringe, injected it directly into his neck, and stood resolutely. The pressure-activated needle delivered the microchip in an instant. There wasn't a moment of doubt in his movements. Zack observed him, a slight smirk playing at his lips. Scott's decisiveness didn't come from coercion alone. The sheer technological and military prowess Zack displayed, combined with his pragmatic approach to leadership, had already won Scott's allegiance. To him, Zack's rule promised something rare in the apocalypse: stability, progress, and strength.
Scott knelt on one knee, his voice unwavering. "Master, I am yours to command."
Zack acknowledged the gesture with a nod. "Good. Take these to your soldiers. Once they're chipped, I'll grant you secondary control over their functions."
"Understood!" Scott stood without hesitation and began distributing the syringes to his troops. As this unfolded, a deep, rough voice cut through the tense atmosphere. Zack! What are you going to do with me?"
Zack turned to see Andre, supported by two burly soldiers, finally regaining consciousness. Despite his weakened state, Andre's voice carried his usual defiance. "How would you prefer I handle this?" Zack asked, his tone calm and unreadable.