Regressed with Omnipotent AI on Zombie Apocalypse(FF)

"Approximately 600,000, sir. It's one of the largest survivor bases in the region," Ego replied.

"What about their resources?" Zack pressed.

"The city houses top-tier universities and research facilities, with rare materials and elements estimated to be more than ten times the amount in NYC," Ego said.

"Good," Zack said with a chilling smile. "Put everything else on hold. Focus all production on the Avalon transport fleet."

Back in Washington, chaos had erupted. Despite Kane's efforts to keep the news contained, rumors of the approaching zombie horde spread like wildfire. "Arrest anyone spreading rumors!" Kane roared, his voice echoing through the base command center. But his orders did little to quell the panic. Fear had taken root, and no amount of authoritarian control could stop it. People whispered about how the base's defenses would crumble under the sheer weight of the horde. Some even claimed Kane had already made plans to abandon them and flee.

Inside the command center, Kane sat with his council in an emergency meeting, his usually pompous demeanor replaced by visible desperation. "We need a solution," he barked, glaring at his subordinates. "What can we do to stop this horde?"

The room fell silent. Every proposed solution had been shot down after rounds of debate. Finally, someone broke the silence. "Sir, it's… unstoppable," a council member said hesitantly. "Even nuclear weapons won't be enough at this stage."

Kane slammed his fist on the table. "I don't believe that!" he shouted. He had clawed his way to power, eliminating rivals and securing his position as leader of Washington DC's base. Now, faced with an unprecedented threat, he wasn't ready to give it all up. "Fine!" Kane snapped. "We'll create a nuclear barrier. Blast a radiation field horizontally across the horde's path. That should stop them!"

His subordinates exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, someone spoke up timidly. "Sir… zombies aren't affected by radiation."

The color drained from Kane's face. He froze, then erupted in fury. "If that won't work, then what will? What do you expect me to do?" he roared, his voice shaking with anger and frustration.

Kane, despite his reputation as a shrewd businessman, had earned respect over the years through his mix of cunning and brute power. But when his temper flared, it left everyone trembling. One of his subordinates, a skinny man with an unpleasantly sly face, visibly quaked as Kane's sharp gaze locked onto him. "You. Speak!" Kane barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. His glare seemed to say, 'Come up with a solution, or you're dead.'

The man stammered, his voice cracking under the pressure. "I… I think we could try contacting other bases. Maybe… trade like we did with Carribiean Base… exchange people for their help." The words barely left his mouth before regret washed over him. The room went silent, the air thick with judgmental stares. Kane's face darkened, his already round cheeks seeming to sink into a shadow.

"You idiot!" Kane bellowed. "How exactly do you plan to contact them when all our satellites are gone? Huh? Tell me that!"

The man flinched but couldn't respond. "We don't even know where the horde is anymore, let alone have a way to reach other bases!" Kane thundered, his rage reaching its peak. "Drag this fool to the wall! Let him greet the zombies when they arrive!"

Two tattooed guards strode in, grabbed the trembling man, and dragged him out of the room. The man screamed, begging for another chance. "Wait!" he shouted desperately. "I have a way to track the horde!"

Kane raised his hand, signaling the guards to pause. His glare turned icy as he addressed the man. "Talk."

The man's voice wavered. "We… we could use planes. Even without satellites, the planes—"

"Planes?" Kane cut him off, his face livid. "Drag him out! I don't need fools wasting my time!"

Before the man could defend himself, the guards hauled him out of the room. His cries faded into the distance, leaving the room in an awkward silence. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances. They all knew mentioning airplanes was a touchy subject. After the old Commanders's fall, Kane had executed the base's few remaining military pilots, leaving them with no one capable of flying fighter jets. Even their civil aviation pilots were barely competent. But despite his anger, Kane eventually grumbled, "He's not entirely wrong. We can still use drones to track the horde."

One of his subordinates hesitated before speaking cautiously, "Leader, the drones have a limited range. Even if we spot the horde, we won't have much time to prepare."

"It's better than nothing," Kane snapped. "Send the drones out. Once we locate the horde, we'll drop the nuke and prepare to leave." With that, he slumped back into his chair, his massive frame seeming to sink under the weight of his desperation. The room remained quiet. No one voiced objections—they were all focused on their own survival, not the 600,000 lives in the base.

Under Kane's orders, military drones launched in waves from the Washington DC base, scanning the northern plains. Without satellite support, their range was limited to a 200-kilometer radius. This limitation posed a dire problem. The moment the horde was detected, it meant the zombies were already dangerously close—just 24 hours away for ordinary undead. For faster variants like Night Stalker and Hunters, the time could be cut down to less than 10 hours. Kane, ever cautious, had already prepared his escape. A luxury transport plane sat fueled on the runway, stocked with fine wines, gourmet food, and a group of young women dressed as flight attendants. To Kane, these women were more than company—they were currency, valuable enough to barter for safety and resources at another base.

But not everyone shared his selfish mindset. In the crowded survivor living quarters, resentment toward Kane simmered. In one of the makeshift prefab houses, a group of mutants gathered. These weren't ordinary survivors—they were powered individuals who had formed a resistance of sorts. 

"That fat bastard Kane," one of them growled, slamming his fist on a creaky table. "He's got no intention of defending this place!" The speaker, a muscular man with a bull-like frame, clenched his fists in frustration.

"Why don't we just send Fang to take him out?" he suggested. "End this nonsense before it's too late."

Another mutant shook his head. "It's not that simple. You think Kane's mutants are just for decoration? He's got them guarding him day and night."

The man known as Fang rolled his eyes, frustrated and out of breath. His ability, akin to a chameleon's camouflage, allowed him to blend seamlessly into his surroundings at night, making him nearly invisible. However, the ability was useless under ultraviolet light, rendering him powerless during the day. Hearing about Kane's loyal mutant enforcers, the burly man beside him instinctively rubbed a scar on his arm, letting out a long sigh.