Shaolin. He was always an extremely intelligent kid, diligently studied Dragon Style at his local dojo, but never particularly stood out as a fighter, as he wasn’t particularly strong, dextrous, or perceptive.
Come the Cataclysm, initially surviving the mess was extremely difficult. A combination of situational awareness, well timed kicks to knock his aggressors back, and a reliance on throwing weapons got him through the first year. (He became especially fond of his throwing knives, and his sole machete that he’d hurl at larger adversaries).
He eventually became obsessed with acquiring knowledge hidden away in the laboratories, discovered alpha serum, and finally acquired physical prowess to match his keen intellect. He also began installing cybernetics, but as a rule avoided CBMs that would dull his natural senses. The protection alloy plating would provide wouldn’t be worth losing the feel of a summer breeze on his natural skin. To him, losing his senses would be the elimination of his humanity; and what would be the point of surviving without that?
Most of the cybernetics were embedded in his palms. An electromagnet to recall his throwing weapons, A short-range EMP generator, an electric generator that enabled chain lightning attacks. To recharge his power, he allowed himself what he deemed “harmonious” regeneration sources, torsion and metabolic interchange. After some hesitation, he also installed repair nano-bots, a cloaking device and a shock-wave generator. Even with his immense power, he reasoned, he may one day need means of escape. This proved to be wise…
In the small town where he had set up camp, there was a slime pit and a small colony of blobs. There never seemed to be enough when he was working so hard to create his alpha serum doses, but once that effort was over, that colony gradually began to grow. He wasn’t especially concerned, as they weren’t very dangerous and easily eliminated, although he did think to himself that he should eventually thin out their numbers to avoid a “nuisance”
“Nuisance” became the understatement of his life. While working on his mobile base one day, he heard a huge commotion down the street. Upon investigating, he discovered that this small population of blobs had exploded into hundreds, and they were closing in, fast. “How did they reproduce so quickly?” He surmised the damaged blob remains must have been capable of reviving into new blobs, and given their habit of splitting whenever he casually killed them off, their population must have been growing exponentially.
While a handful were never a threat, being surrounded by dozens with no room to run was life-threatening, and attacking them one at a time wasn’t doing the job fast enough. It took two shock-wave blasts to clear a path for himself, at which point he ran to his shopping cart, grabbed a sledge-hammer, and started swinging in wide arcs, smashing the blobs to bits. He collected their remains and gathered them in a pile, hoping a bonfire would eliminate them all.
As he went to collect some wood for a fire, another hoard of blobs approached, and despite a few chain lightning attacks to thin out their numbers, they kept coming, and cornered him into a house. He spent a full day fighting off the hoard, attempting to use a door-frame as a choke point, although they still managed to surround him there in a way Zombies never could.
At dusk, he was surrounded by blob remains. His rucksack had been destroyed, its contents all over the floor. His leather backpack was still intact, along with his kevlar vest, and cargo shorts, the three of which had been customized to allow easy access to his 20 throwing knives and machete. His equipment was rounded out with Knee-pads, hand arm-guards, reinforced plated fingerless gloves, combat boots, with some medical gear, clean water, and a plutonium powered UPS in his backpack to power his goggles. He decided he needed to move camp, immediately, and once based a safe distance away, attempt a raid back here to reclaim valuables that would be difficult to replace. Draping his sledge-hammer over his shoulders, he made his way back North to his base, only to hear another massive commotion, this time including a gut-wrenching, hideous roar. The pile of hundreds of blob remains, which he intended to burn, had revived, and a bulk of them had combined into a…
…Sho’gath…
As the sunset, the Sho’gath and its blob army advanced. Shaolin had a loooong night ahead of him…
