Neo Seoul, South Korea. 2047.
The immigrant massacre of 2045 sparked an uprising halted by a titanic explosion that cast a dark, toxic cloud over the capital.
Nobody knew for sure who gave the order, though most had an idea.
In the run up to the blast, rumours had been circulating that underground Samsung labs had been engineering military weaponry alongside their well-known surveillance program.
When the virus spread it was devastating. After two weeks, Seoul was a ghost town. Six weeks later, the whole peninsula was quarantined.
Five years later, Korea remains a no-go zone outside of military juristriction. The concrete wastelands of neo Seoul now harboured the last remaining civilians, who’d returned for resources.
Only one foreigner – the Outsider – remained.
Nothing is ever completely lost.
Where there is light, a rose can grow from concrete.
What were we trying to do?
We should have just got the hell out, before the explosion, before this virus I feel pulsating through my veins.
Before I became the monster staring back through these blood-stained mirrors.
Every lab led to fresh clues, new hope for an antidote.
Everyone was one of us here is infected. Some of us have fared better than others, but the virus will kill us all eventually.
That is, if we don’t kill each other first.
People say giving yourself up means becoming fresh fodder for the testing labs.
Not much is known about life beyond the quarantine zone, but the Samsung logos adorning military patrol uniforms tell their own story.
Birds of prey have the best vantage point. Death from above.
Hunt or be hunted. There are no allies here.
I used to fear the screams.
Fear…I miss that.