The Battle of Switzerland

The Swiss Alps were still — eerily still — as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath.
In the distance, columns of smoke and ash rolled across the mountains, blending with the clouds until day and night were indistinguishable.

Then came the sound — low, rhythmic, like the heartbeat of something enormous beneath the snow.

Thousands of figures marched through the snow like an avalanche made of flesh— silhouettes glowing faintly red from the infection that pulsed beneath their skin. They moved without hesitation, as though the ground itself had fallen in step to their hymn.

Time to resume the battle.

Zero led at the front, holding a milk bottle to the child against his chest. A tendril of his blood unfurled from his wrist to hold open a Bible before his face, pages fluttering until they settled on the Book of Revelation.

“Hmm,” he murmured, flipping a page. “Fascinating.”

Behind him, the sentients marched in perfect synchrony:

Everett’s none wings folded tight against his back.

Leon dragging a spear.

Elcy’s red dress fluttering in the cold wind, her expression heavy.

And Nara, barefoot had a wide grin plastered across her face where her mask had been ripped in jagged shapes like something unholy.

Above them, perched on the cliffside fortress of Gotthard Base, the last defense line of the newly formed Allied Coalition awaited.

Soldiers, mercenaries, anyone who could still hold a weapon of some kind had gathered from Germany, Switzerland and the remnants of France. Tanks and thermal cannons, lined the ridges, aimed squarely at the advancing tide. They whispered prayers under their breath. Others simply watched death approaching.

President Allen, still refused to deploy his armies to Europe, drawing back his borders and fortifying the Americas — Mexico, Canada, and the U.S. now ringed by steel and fear.

And he wasn’t the only one; England, Spain, Russia, China and Japan had all focused on their respective countries.

Control room

Victor, Emily, Leland, and General Kiyora stood before a reinforced glass window overlooking the valley.

“This is it,” Kiyora murmured. “Once he crosses that line, we deploy the field.”

Victor said nothing. He flexed his hands staring at the veins building beneath his skin. His blood responded to Zero’s presence like a tuning fork to sound.

Emily noticed. “You okay?”

He nodded once, eyes glowing. “He’s approaching.”

The Valley

Zero halted.
He looked up at the mountain, sensing the humans watching him. He smiled.

“Everett,” he said softly. “did you know the old Earth god, had apostles to do his bidding? Fitting coincidence, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Everett said, eyes scanning the horizon.

“Do you feel it? their heartbeats above us, pulsing, desperate.”

“I feel….something,” Everett murmured.

“Yes,” Zero whispered. “We have our answer. Let’s go greet them.”

But Everett didn’t move.

“Is something troubling you?” Zero asked.

“Not troubling,” Everett said. “Just a question.”

“Ask it.”

Everett turned, meeting his eyes. “How do you know you’re a god?”

“Zero has halted movement,” a technician reported. “Energy readings are spiking…he’s generating some sort of…. electromagnetic field.”

“That’s how he maintains the hive network,” Victor said, eyes fixed on the screen that displayed Zero’s image from an overhead drone. “He’s broadcasting through bioelectricity — his nervous system is basically a living transmitter. These levels are higher than I thought…”

Leland frowned. “Once he’s within range, we trigger the field. You’re certain it’ll hold him?”

Victor exhaled. “It should.”

He turned to the workstation, removing a vial of dark-red fluid from a centrifuge and held it to the light.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “The resonance field is a more powerful version of the one Leland deployed in the ECHO facility. It should block Zero’s ability to communicate with the hive at the neural level.”

“What do you mean?” Kiyora asked.

Victor gestured to the projection screen, showing Zero atop the Eiffel Tower.

“At first, I thought his stillness was arrogance. But look closer — every infected moved when he looks at them. The moment his gaze shifts, their rhythm falters. Can you see?”

“You’re saying he needs to see them?” Emily asked smiling.

“Exactly.”

Emily moved to a blackboard beside the screen, chalk squealing as she began writing formulas of the time-independent Schrödinger equation and underlined it twice.

General Kiyora scratched his head.

“If the infection’s signal is visually entangled with Zero’s optic nerve, then the act of observation itself maintains neural coherence. His eyes are the transmitter — his vision the bridge between organic and quantum states.”
She paused, eyes narrowing. “That’s fucking insane.”

Leland muttered getting closer to the board. “It is just a theory. Still unproven.”

Victor placed the vial back into the centrifuge.

“No? Based on this blood samples collected in France, I have confirmed that the cellular activity is nearly identical to Zero’s own tissue…. regenerative, recursive and constantly rewriting itself. But…. watch this.”

He held up a second vial, less dark.

“This one’s from Leon Mitchell. Notice the difference….more stable, cleaner. It mimics healthy human cells but the nucleus is synthetic. I think the Sentients are independent…in other words Zero has no control over them.”

Emily stared at the vials. “”Then they can be reasoned with.”

Victor pocketed an earpiece and moved towards the door.

“Wait for my signal,” he said quietly.

Emily turned. “Victor—”

Before she could stop him, Victor was gone — leaping from the stairwell into the cold. The soldiers below parted instinctively as he passed. Snow swirled around him, parted by heat that pulsed faintly from his skin. He could hear the humming of the infection in his brain, like they were asking him to join them.

Zero stopped seeing Victor, his sentients behind him. He looked at Victor for a long time.

“Well,” Zero said finally. “Father, you have come to see me.”

Victor’s jaw tightened. “You’ve caused enough pain. This ends here.”

Zero’s tone softened, almost amused. “Pain is merely the crucible of creation. You of all people should understand that.”

“I understand enough to know that what you’re doing isn’t creation. It’s consumption.”

Zero’s chuckle echoed through the valley, deep and resonant, shaking loose snow from the ridges.

“You still cling to your human delusions,” he said. “Do you not see what we’ve become? No sickness. No decay. No death. We are a true miracle.”

“I’ve seen your ‘miracles,’” Victor said coldly. “Cities burning. Families torn apart. You think that’s divinity? No. that’s enslavement.”

“Oh.” Zero mused, “and yet, here you are — fighting alongside the original slavers, the same species that cages what they fear. Tell me, father, are you their savior… or just afraid of what you really are?”

Victor’s eyes glowed brighter. “Maybe I am afraid. But at least I still know what it means to choose.”

Zero’s smile faded, his expression turning cold.

“Choice,” he said. “A luxury of the weak. I offer peace, unity — one mind, one will. My gift is eternity.”
He stepped forward, snow evaporating beneath his feet. “This is your last chance, father. Will you accept it?”

The soldiers behind Victor tensed, weapons raised.
Victor’s answer was a whisper. “Never.”

Zero sighed. “Then you choose extinction.”

He extended his hand.

The ground trembled as the hive charging toward Victor.

“Now!” Victor yelled into his earpiece.

“Now what?” Zero asked, stepping forward, the boy asleep in his arms turned crying.

Victor froze. “Wait— is that—?”

He caught a glimpse of the child’s face.

“Abort!” he shouted. “Abort the—!”

Too late.

A dome of golden energy erupted from the mountains, slamming into the valley with a deafening crack. Snow exploded outward in all directions, swallowing both men in a wave of light.

“The field is active,” the technician shouted. “Containment at 78%....83…holding!”

The ground quaked violently.

“Hold it steady!” Kiyora barked.

Through the reinforced glass, they saw the golden field spread, trapping Zero.

Outside, the Soldiers opened fire on the sentients — but the hive had gone still, frozen mid-stride.

And for the first time, the world held its breath — and hope shone through