π’ πππππππππππ:
[Day 2. The sirens keep echoing through the dead city, but the fences still standβbecause Iβm making sure they do.
The infected swarm the perimeter, clawing at steel and screaming for flesh, but this time Iβve got air support.
My drone hovers above the line, its minigun tearing through anything that moves.
Smoke. Fire. The stench of the undead.
Iβm the last inspector on duty, and I refuse to let them break through.
As long as my drone has ammo, this fence holds.]
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I will be back soon