The following message is both a transcript of my final written report, and my resignation, should anyone care in a world governed by the nonexistent rules of the dead.
‘Just two weeks was all it took for society to crumble. July, a seemingly insignificant month by any average adult’s standards, was now the birthplace of an unimaginable amount of grief. In just over a month, Chernarus fell into the hands of a greater, yet malevolent being. Many countries kept pace, and in the following year the infection had spread across the entire globe, leaving a clear trail of destruction and pain, and consuming the vast majority of civilization. Chaos and panic led to riots in the streets, and those who saw an opportunity to arise as a leader in this new world took it without question. Some brave men formed organizations fueled by grace and service, but, even they recognized the likelihood of their downfall. The life that humans had created for themselves vanished in the time it would have normally taken to complete a mere semester or two of schooling, but society fell far sooner. In this new world, degrees and careers are no longer important. Every single accomplishment achieved has been stripped of its value. A clean slate has been forced upon society, held by the iron fist of the man we once revered and called our “God.” No education could have prepared the world for this outbreak. No amount of schooling, studying, stockpiling, or training could have ever resulted in a better life expectancy after the pandemic. There are no professionals, anymore. There are only survivors. It may have taken nearly fifteen months for the world to succumb to anarchy, but the mindset of the people had changed much sooner. No, just two weeks was all it took for society to crumble.
The United Nations, a deteriorating organization in the eyes of many, was able to find its purpose after the outbreak in Chernarus. Dispatching humanitarian aid alongside their enlisted troops, they became a beacon of hope for many survivors. Very soon after the discovery of the outbreak, the United Nations sent a large detachment of troops, doctors, and scientists to Miroslavl. I, Mark Andrews, was numbered among those brave men and women. Although most of the UN’s reinforcements were devoted to protecting the established research base, a few of us were sent a bit further out to establish a perimeter and hold the line in case of an unlikely attack. We were able to hold our own for just two days before we were completely overrun.
The United Nations does not have their own military. Instead, enlisted soldiers from across the world are called upon when the need arises. As such, my detachment was one full of many various backgrounds. Personally, I was a member of the United States Air Force. Since all air travel in and out of Chernarus had been forbidden, my skills in aviation were relatively useless, however, I was able to learn many lessons from those who I was stationed with in those few long hours in our nomadic and unsuspecting camp. Not only were we expected to defend the entire research outpost from the hordes of infected who could potentially reach us if all hell truly broke loose, but we also had to cope with the ones referred to as bandits. These so-called “bandits” seemed to have little regard for any human life, possibly even their own. After the third hour, our location had been exposed, and a few men who seemed to want nothing more than to watch the world burn attacked us for supplies. They died unfortunate and unnecessary deaths that day, and their faces of both pride and regret will forever be etched into my brain as a reminder of true human nature.
Every few hours we would advance our perimeter to further solidify our foothold in the area. Only having been attacked once and not having seen any infected, we got too comfortable. The infected came at night, an unheard horde presumably from the Miroslavl airport, though to this day I don’t know where they all originated. If they truly can move as quickly as some say, it isn’t unlikely that they came from as far as the southern border of Takistan. We were entirely unprepared for an invasion of such magnitude. I was the only one who managed to survive. While my brothers and sisters in arms fought and fell with purpose, I turned my back and ran.
With gunshots and screams echoing behind me, all I could do was run. Not knowing which way to go, I went east, hearing that Southwest Zagoria was yet to be completely overrun with the pandemic. Having lost nearly all of my gear and falling into a state of intense anxiety, I must now survive in a harsh world where every shadow is a threat. I was once a devout Christian, but I no longer can excuse any being, no matter how high, for what has been done to this world. If there is a God, then he is nothing more than a cruel and manipulative monster, and if there is not a God, then this is all slightly easier to cope with. The United Nations was always an organization devoted to helping others in need, that is why I was dispatched to Chernarus to begin with, but I can’t seem to find any benefit in helping others in this new world. Anyone you feed will, in turn, feed you poison. Anyone you clothe, will, in return, clothe you in your own blood and doubt. Those who you arm, will undoubtedly kill you. There is always a return, but it is never a positive one.
I will use all the tools at my disposal to survive. I will not become like the others in my detachment. I refuse to attempt to fight with valiant cause against an enemy with no regulations or restraint, in a world where the gates of hell have been unleashed, and the beats of Armageddon roam freely. I will abandon the broken name of the United Nations and do what they should have done from the start: unite those who deserve to be united, not blindly serve the weak and untrustworthy. I am Mark Andrews, and this is where my own story begins.’