Final Crisis

Prologue

"...Almost four decades and these 'zombie outbreaks' still happen! I mean, it's at a point now where it feels deliberate. What exactly is the government doing about it?"

"Nothing, I'll tell you that. That's why I've made my own bunker."

"Good thinking, dude. Any chance I could get an invite when shit goes down?"

A young man, scoffing at the podcast and taking his earbuds out, welcomed the warm breeze that blew over the bustling town of Chergrove. Dazzling purple and pink lights ran rampant throughout, casting an effulgent glow along the dim streets.

He rode into the sparsely populated parking lot of a grocery store, flying past cars and carefully squeezing between some on his way through, listening to the indistinct chatter of families and friends walking by.

He skittered to a stop at a bike rack, near the front doors of the store. The rack was made of dark gray steel that towered over him.

Locks were attached to it, and he hopped off his bike and moved it to an empty space, almost hitting another bike in the process. He set his bike in place and firmly wrapped the lock around it.

His head rose up and his eyes met with a small card swiper situated a few inches above the locks.

Rummaging through his coat pocket, he pulled out a small card which he swiped, producing a small jingle. The screen beamed with life upon doing so.

Finn Comoya, 19

Is this you?

YES NO

He yawned as he pressed yes and entered a password and the locks clicked in place. In the process, the swiper produced a sound that was similar to that of cracking open a can of soda.

Ten cents have been deducted from your card. Thank you!

He put his Fosferen card back in his pocket. It was something made in the 2040's by a man known as Ian Dones Fosferen, otherwise known as I.D Fosferen. It was supposedly created as a way of more easily conducting transactions and identifying people and assessing security threats, though Finn saw it as a way of just charging people more money for no reason.

Finn took off his helmet, fixed his disheveled, black hair, and got off of his bike. He put in some earbuds and started playing a news broadcast.

The outside of the store was decorated with fauna and floral decorations. Small plants that resembled sea corals lined across the walls.

As Finn entered the store, he ran his hand down his face, looking around him.

The entrance was like a tunnel-like hallway with screens across the walls that illuminated it with lights that resembled auroras. Calm jazz music played through speakers. The words 7:47 May 27th, 2077 ran across the screen. A few security guards stood tall at the end of the hall, some walking up and down through it.

There were a decent amount of people in the store, though the continuous droning of the reporter in his ears muddled up all their talking.

Finn grabbed a basket and made his way around the store. He'd done this so often now that it was practically a routine.

To the left, grabbing fruit that we're missing...then up to grab milk...then bread...

After completing his usual rounds he moved to the snack aisle and exhaled a long breath as he viewed his options. For most of his trip he had zoned out the reporter, but in this moment of thinking and silence, the words came through to him.

Oh, but to ruin this beautifully sunny week to welcome in summertime across the nation, we have yet more reports of small outbreaks...

As the reporter droned on further, Finn settled on grabbing a bag of gummy worms and a giant can of juice.