Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 236: Commander’s Respite Part 2

January 13, 2026 — 4:15 PM

MOA Complex — South Sector, Seaside Boulevard

The sun was just beginning to dip into the horizon, casting soft golds and ambers over the seawall as the breeze carried the briny scent of the bay into the heart of the MOA Complex. The lights of the amusement park flickered to life one by one—an echo of a world that used to be, a reminder that despite the apocalypse, there were still places left to smile.

Thomas Estaris stood at the edge of the boardwalk, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long Overwatch jacket. He wasn't wearing his usual armor or command gear today—just a black shirt, slacks, and his signature wrist console. A quiet look sat on his face. For once, the complex didn't need his orders. The Bloom nests were cleared, the West Philippine Sea patrolled, and Metro Manila secure—for now.

He exhaled slowly, watching as the Ferris wheel lit up in hues of violet and blue.

Then he heard the soft steps behind him.

"Thought you'd stand me up," said a voice—clear, amused, and familiar.

He turned and smiled. Rebecca Langley stood there with her arms crossed, dressed in something rare: a light blue blouse and a pair of dark jeans, civilian clothes not touched by command insignia or tactical belts. Her long brown hair was tied into a practical braid that brushed her shoulder.

"I'm twenty seconds early," Thomas said, glancing at his wrist console.

Rebecca tilted her head. "And already counting. That's not very civilian of you."

He shrugged with a faint smirk. "Old habits."

The boardwalk behind them was coming alive—not crowded, but no longer desolate either. Families that had chosen to remain in the MOA Complex had slowly begun to emerge, bringing life back to the once-abandoned zones. Children chased each other with glowing sticks, teens loitered near reopened food stalls, and soldiers stood watch in discreet formations near ride entrances.

"Didn't think we'd ever get to do this," Thomas murmured.

Rebecca raised a brow. "You mean a date?"

He blinked. "I was going to say a walk."

She laughed, a light sound that startled a pair of nearby doves into flight. "Come on, Commander. Let's take that walk, then."

They started down the boardwalk together, side by side, the distant hum of the rides mingling with the rhythm of the waves crashing softly against the sea barrier.

The first attraction they came across was the carousel, its painted horses and carriages slowly turning to the tune of a soft waltz. Most would expect children to be on it, but the operator—an Overwatch technician moonlighting for morale duty—waved them on.

"I dare you," Rebecca said.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Ride the carousel."

"I command nuclear warheads."

"And yet you're afraid of a spinning horse."

He snorted. "Fine."

A few moments later, Thomas Estaris, Supreme Commander of Overwatch, sat atop a white-and-gold carousel horse while Rebecca, one seat ahead, giggled as she rode a lion. Around them, the slow-turning carousel glowed with warm lights. For a few precious minutes, they weren't leaders—they were just people.

When the ride ended, they got off with a kind of bashful amusement that neither tried to hide.

"Next stop?" he asked.

Rebecca pointed. "Roller coaster."

Thomas followed her to the entrance of the refurbished Wave Reaper, a coastal-themed ride that dipped and twisted above the sea barrier. Engineers had recently tested it and declared it structurally safe. The guards waved them through, and they strapped in.

The ride began with a clack-clack-clack as the chain hauled the cars up the first incline. Thomas glanced sideways.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"I eat budget reports for breakfast. This is nothing," she replied, but her grip on the bar tightened.

Then came the drop.

They plummeted together, laughter and curses whipped away by the wind. The track twisted left, right, then soared over a loop. When they slowed to a halt, Rebecca had her hair blown loose, and Thomas was grinning.

"That was... unnecessary," she said, breathless.

"And amazing," he replied.

They stopped next by a small ice cream kiosk run by a group of volunteers who had restarted civilian businesses within the zone. A young girl in a vendor cap handed them two cones—chocolate for Thomas, ube for Rebecca.

He took a bite and sighed. "Haven't had this since... I can't even remember."

Rebecca glanced at him between licks of her own cone. "You're good at pretending everything's under control."

Thomas looked out at the water. "Most days, it isn't."

She didn't press him. Just walked beside him until they reached the Ferris wheel, its enormous steel frame now painted with reinforced white coating and rimmed in colored LED lights.

They stepped into a private gondola, which creaked gently as it rose into the sky. As the cabin climbed higher, the world shrank below them.

From above, the MOA Complex looked peaceful. The seawalls encircled the base like a protective ring. The satellite towers blinked steadily. The reclaimed city lay still beneath the golden sun, no longer just a fortress—but maybe, slowly, a home.

"I used to want a family," Thomas said, breaking the silence.

Rebecca turned toward him.

"Before all of this," he continued. "I wanted something quiet. A house. A wife. Maybe a kid. Someone to come home to after work."

She was quiet for a long moment. "You never told me that."

He smiled weakly. "Never thought it was important. We were too busy fighting for survival. But now… I don't know. I think I still want it."

Rebecca studied his face. "You still can, you know."

"Even now?"

"Especially now. We rebuild, remember? It's not just cities and systems we're restoring—it's people."

The gondola reached its peak.

The whole of Manila stretched out before them—ruins, hope, firelights, and all. A thousand stories below the sky.

Thomas looked at her then, really looked.

"I like you, Rebecca. Not just as my director. Or my ally. I like you."

She blinked. A slight smile crept onto her face.

"Took you long enough to say that," she replied softly.

The gondola began its descent.

The rest of the ride passed in silence—but it wasn't awkward.

It was warm. Hopeful.

By the time they stepped off the ride, the night had deepened. The amusement park lights shimmered on the water. Civilians laughed in the distance. Someone had started playing music from an old speaker—an upbeat pop song that clashed with the quiet, but somehow fit anyway.

They walked back toward the command wing, steps unhurried, silence companionable.

At the elevator, Thomas paused.

"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow?" he asked.

Rebecca tilted her head. "You mean... like a date?"

He nodded.

She grinned. "I thought this was the date."

They both laughed.

Then the doors slid shut, and she was gone.

Thomas stood alone for a moment, staring at the reflection in the polished metal. His face looked different—less hardened. Less tired.

He tapped his console.

No mission alerts.

No emergencies.

Just a quiet notification.

He smiled to himself.

"Good," he whispered. "Let's keep it that way."