Day 231 | Saturday | 8:00 AM
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Today is a special day. A day filled with hope.
But before I get to that—let me tell you why I’m here.
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My name is Pugazh, 19 years old. I was just a regular student with dreams of becoming... something. But all of that shattered when the apocalypse began. Trust me, surviving the end of the world is way harder than what you see in movies. This is all because of a virus...
They call it Z31.
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It started in Kuala Lumpur. Within 6 days, the virus swept through the entire country like wildfire. 95% of Malaysia’s population was infected. But strangely, the virus had no effect on animals or plants—only humans.
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I was still in school when I first saw the infected. My whole family… gone.
I only survived because of Agilan—my schoolmate, my hero.
He saved me that day, and we’ve stuck together ever since.
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Now, after 231 days, we live here—a university in Perak that we’ve turned into a survival base.
We call it the U-Zone.
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The U-Zone
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U-Zone is our safe haven. It was a public university once, but now it's home. We’re a small community of 56 survivors. We call ourselves The Perakians, because most of us are from Perak.
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Our chief is a former hunter—tough, quiet, wise.
We have an inventor (Mr. Shaiful), a retired army commander, a lady doctor, a mamak chef, a farmer, a musician, a few police officers, students, and even a granny who once worked as a midwife.
We also have pets—dogs, cats, even a hamster. We raise chickens, goats, and cows for food.
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Thanks to solar panels and pedal-powered systems (built by Mr. Shaiful), we have electricity. And he even built a short-range radio network. That man is a genius.
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The U-Zone layout includes:
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A central hall (now a dining and meeting area)
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A rooftop garden for growing herbs and veggies
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Converted classrooms for dorms
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Medical room, food storage, kitchen, and watchtowers
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And now, about those infected...
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We call them The Rottens.
They're not just zombies—they’re worse.
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They retain some traits from their human selves. For example, if someone couldn’t speak before they were infected, they become silent attackers. That’s terrifying.
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And there are others… the Bulks.
Huge, mutated Rottens that take three headshots to bring down. One punch from a Bulk can break a wall. We don’t fight them unless absolutely necessary.
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That’s why our chief believes staying away from the outside world is the best way to survive. And honestly, he’s right.
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But today… everything changed.
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One of the police officers and the musician woman who came here months ago… fell in love. And now, she’s pregnant.
This morning, she went into labor.
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Despite limited medical supplies, our doctor and nurse are prepared. We also have that wise old Indian grandma who once helped in home births back in her kampung days.
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All of us waited. Prayed.
Not just to one god—we have all races and religions here. We believe that hope doesn’t belong to one faith.
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At exactly 8:46 AM, we heard the cry. A baby girl.
The first baby born after the apocalypse. Her cry echoed through the U-Zone like sunlight piercing through dark clouds.
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The chief named her: Hope.
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That night, we celebrated.
No loud music, no fireworks—but there was warmth, and smiles, and for the first time in a long time… peace.
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But peace doesn’t last long in this world.
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Just before midnight, a voice crackled through the radio from the south watchtower.
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“New incoming.”
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Someone was at the main gate. Alive.
Or at least... not yet Rotten.
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