Legends

In a ravaged world, where danger lurks at every turn, legends are not mere tales of fantasy. They are shared in whispers around campfires or in moments of desperation, offering lessons that can mean the difference between life and death. No one can say for certain whether these stories are distorted echoes of reality or the product of desperate minds trying to make sense of the chaos. Some seem crafted to frighten children or warn the reckless about the horrors lurking in the wasteland; others, as improbable as they may sound, might hold more truth than anyone is willing to admit.

Each legend is a blend of truth and fantasy. Some recount events from generations past, warped by time and word of mouth. Others, no matter how absurd they seem, are undeniable facts in a world where the laws of nature have been shattered, and the impossible has become part of everyday reality. Here, the line between the real and the fantastic is far thinner than most would like to believe.

The King of the Ripped

In the ruins of what was once the largest city in North America, there is a tale that chills the blood of those brave enough to venture into its collapsed skyscrapers and tunnels. The legend speaks of a terrifying figure known as The King of the Ripped, a being whose nature—human, mutant, or something darker and ancient—remains uncertain. Whatever it may be, its dominion over the ruins is absolute, and its presence serves as a constant warning to anyone daring to enter its territory.

There's something unsettling about the streets of the ruins that deters anyone who approaches: there are no infected or wandering creatures. Unlike other areas ravaged by the apocalypse, the streets under the King's control are empty, devoid of life or death. Some believe he possesses powers that repel the infected; others claim he has eradicated them. However, the sepulchral silence reigning in this place is deeply disturbing. The most superstitious suggest that the King exercises some kind of mental control over the creatures that should inhabit the area, keeping them at bay through sheer willpower.

The King is not alone. He is accompanied by a tribe of raiders and cannibals who worship him as if he were a god. These followers, deformed by radiation and savagery, patrol the streets, capturing anyone foolish enough to enter the ruins. However, what truly makes the King a figure of terror is his apparent knowledge of every corner of the city. It's said he has filled the streets and tunnels with deadly traps, from which no one has escaped alive. The few who have managed to flee tell stories of his ability to manipulate the environment as if the ruins themselves obey his commands.

The most macabre aspect of the legend of The King of the Ripped is the trophies he displays throughout the city. His victims are not merely killed; their bodies are hung upside down, turned inside out, with their internal organs grotesquely exposed. These bodies, displayed on the most visible and tallest buildings, are not only intended to intimidate but also seem to challenge observers to understand how he accomplishes such feats. Whether through some form of telekinesis or superhuman strength, no one knows. The sight of these deformed bodies is enough to keep everyone away. According to rumors, some of these bodies are still alive, writhing in continuous agony and emitting groans that echo through the silence of the empty streets.

The King displays these trophies not only in his fortress but also at strategic locations throughout the city, ensuring that anyone approaching sees what awaits those who challenge his power. His fortress is the tallest skyscraper in the city, one of the few that still stands intact. From there, it's said that the King observes everything that happens within his domain, ruling the ruins with an almost supernatural cruelty.

No one has confronted the King and lived to tell the tale. Those who try to attack him either vanish or end up hung, turned into one of his macabre decorations. The few who have survived an incursion into his territory describe a tall, hunched figure, draped in tattered rags fused with his skin, moving with a terrifying calmness. Some claim he possesses powers beyond human comprehension, capable of bending reality to his will.

It is also said that the King has lived far longer than should be possible, as if death itself cannot reach him. His followers believe he is immortal, an entity born from the chaos of the apocalypse, destined to rule the ruins until the end of time. Others, more skeptical, think he is merely a man who has cleverly exploited fear and superstition, though no one has been able to confirm either belief.

The myth of The King of the Ripped continues to grow with each generation of survivors. His fortress, visible from every point in the city, serves as a constant reminder of his reign of terror. And as long as the bodies remain hanging upside down, groaning from the heights, no one will dare to question the power of the one who rules over those desolate lands.

The Last Army

In the darkest corners of human shelters, whispers tell the tale of The Last Army, a legendary group of soldiers who, according to stories, never stopped fighting even as the world crumbled around them. After the fall of governments and the eruption of chaos, while the rest of the world descended into anarchy, this faction of the military retreated deep into an underground base, isolated from the collapse outside. There, they waited, watching the world from the shadows.

The myth of The Last Army has grown over the years. For many, it is nothing more than a tale, a fantasy born from the desperation of those seeking order in a chaotic world. But there are those who swear this army not only exists but has been waiting for the right moment to emerge and restore the lost order. Survivors who have heard the story claim the army operates in complete silence, hidden in remote and dangerous zones where no one else dares to venture.

Sightings of the soldiers are rare and mysterious. Rumors speak of figures clad in advanced suits, nearly indistinguishable from their surroundings. These figures have been spotted in highly contaminated areas, places where neither mutants nor the infected dare to enter. Witnesses claim they never interact with anyone, merely observing from a distance. But there is something in their gaze, in the way they move, that suggests they are not ordinary soldiers. Their precision and ability to vanish in the blink of an eye have fueled the most chilling theories.

According to legend, The Last Army is not just a group of soldiers who survived the collapse. It is said they underwent biotechnological experiments in the final days of the governments, their bodies and minds altered to endure extreme conditions, with orders that were simple: wait. No one knows who created them or their true purpose, but many believe they are waiting for humanity's factions to completely fall before taking control and rebuilding the world on their terms.

Some refugees tell stories of seeing the shadows of these soldiers on the outskirts of settlements during the darkest nights. It is said they watch in complete silence, never intervening. They never attack, but their presence is intimidating enough to make even the bravest reconsider approaching. What terrifies believers of the legend the most is the sense that The Last Army is not there to protect humans but to monitor, waiting for something or someone to give them the signal to act.

The suits worn by the soldiers of The Last Army are a blend of ancient technology and advancements that seem impossible in a post-apocalyptic world. It is said these suits are equipped with systems that allow them to withstand the effects of radiation, the NT virus, and mutations. Those who have had close encounters with these soldiers claim that, beneath their helmets, their eyes are no longer human. Some describe them as cold and mechanical, while others say they are completely black, as if no soul remains within those bodies. No one knows what was done to them during the experiments, but everyone agrees that what resides within those suits is far more than a mere soldier.

Some believe The Last Army is waiting for a leader who has yet to emerge. Others think the soldiers have become an autonomous entity, operating under programming implanted in their modified brains, incapable of doing anything but watch and wait. According to certain versions of the legend, The Last Army has been gathering information about the few remaining human settlements, studying their behavior, recording every detail. If this is true, no one knows to what end.

The myth becomes even more terrifying when survivors speak of disappearances. In areas near where these soldiers have been sighted, reports of missing people—especially those with scientific or military expertise—are common. Some say The Last Army is silently recruiting, taking the most capable to join their ranks. Others believe they experiment on the missing, attempting to replicate the processes that turned them into what they are. Whatever the truth may be, one thing is certain: those captured by these soldiers never return.

The base of The Last Army, according to rumors, is located in an inaccessible underground complex, a former military facility fortified with layers of security activated in the final days of the collapse. No one has managed to find it, but some claim the entrances are guarded by technology so advanced it could destroy anyone attempting to enter. Within that base, it is said the last decisions of the old government are stored, along with the remnants of what was once the military and scientific elite of the world. If this base exists, it might hold secrets capable of changing the course of humanity.

For the few who still believe in the hope of a new order, The Last Army is a light in the darkness, a return to the control that once existed. For others, however, it is a threat, a force waiting for the right moment to seize power and turn the world into something even worse than the current chaos.

The legend of The Last Army lives on in the whispers of survivors, among those who seek to understand how a group of soldiers could have survived for so long—without aging, without dying, simply waiting. As human settlements continue to struggle for survival, The Last Army remains in the shadows, awaiting the signal to emerge. And when they do, few doubt their intervention will be decisive, but no one knows whether it will save or destroy what remains of the world.

The Echo of the Dead Cities

On the darkest nights, when the wind whistles through the remnants of ancient metropolises, survivors claim to hear the Echo of the Dead Cities. It is no ordinary sound; it is a deep, haunting wail, as if the cities themselves mourn their destruction. According to legend, these echoes arise from the trapped souls of those who perished during the early days of the apocalypse, victims of the NT Virus and nuclear blasts.

But there’s more to it. Many believe the echo is not just the result of the cities' collapse but something far darker. It is said that, in humanity's final moments of dominance, the superpowers, desperate to retain control, turned to secret and experimental weapons. These were not just nuclear bombs or viruses; they were forbidden technologies—failed experiments that should never have been activated. What they unleashed on the cities didn’t just destroy flesh and matter; it tore reality itself, trapping the souls of the dead in an endless cycle of suffering.

No one knows exactly what those weapons unleashed, but the accounts of survivors who dared to approach those places are deeply unsettling. They speak of an indescribable pain—not physical, but mental—an overwhelming pressure that goes beyond fear. Some claim the echo can penetrate the minds of those who hear it, sowing despair and confusion to the point where listeners begin to doubt their own sanity.

The oldest among the survivors tell stories of figures moving among the ruins. These are not mere shadows or mutants. They are something else—something that does not belong to this world. These figures do not seem to have a fixed form, constantly shifting in the gloom. But the most terrifying thing is not seeing them, but feeling them. They say that as the echo grows louder, these figures draw closer, whispering in forgotten tongues. Those who spend too much time near them claim to hear these whispers in their minds long after leaving the cities. Those who are caught by these entities simply vanish, as if they never existed.

The cities where the echo is strongest are not just any locations. These are the former epicenters of power: New York, Tokyo, Moscow—cities where the great powers launched their final desperate attacks. Survivors who venture too close to these devastated metropolises claim the air there feels different, heavier, almost charged with electricity. Some feel an invisible presence trailing them, as though the very buildings are watching. The echo seems to emanate from everywhere at once, enveloping everything in an eternal scream that even the hardiest explorers cannot withstand.

But the echo is not just a distant noise. Those who have heard it say it is more than a collective lament—it is a summons. The souls trapped in the ruins do not want to remain alone in their eternal torment; they seek company. Those who linger too long in these cities feel their willpower erode, their thoughts grow muddled, and despair consume them. In the end, the echo does not merely lure the living—it claims them. No one knows where those taken by the echo go, but some speculate they become part of it, their cries joining the endless chorus of wails.

Over the years, the most superstitious have come to believe the echo is a form of divine punishment, a curse unleashed by the horrors the superpowers wrought in their downfall. Others, more pragmatic, think the echo is a manifestation of the failed experiments left behind, a side effect of weapons that should never have been created. However, even the most skeptical tend to avoid areas where the echo is clearest, unable to ignore the growing number of disappearances.

For those who have heard it, the echo is a warning. It is a reminder that the past has not entirely faded and that the cities that were once humanity’s heart are now living tombs where the souls of the dead cannot escape. As long as the echo continues to resonate in the darkest nights, survivors will know that the scars of the apocalypse marked not only the land but also the souls of those who fell.

This Echo of the Dead Cities is not merely a phenomenon; it is a relic of the horror unleashed by human arrogance. Those who hear it cannot shake the feeling that, one day, their own cry might join the chorus of lost souls.

The Cult of the Eternal Eye

In one of the cities most ravaged by the apocalypse, amid the ruins of what was once a thriving metropolis, a chilling legend has emerged about a strange and increasingly powerful group: The Cult of the Eternal Eye. Operating from the shadows, this cult venerates an ancient artificial intelligence that, according to its members, has been watching the world since long before the collapse. To the followers of the Eternal Eye, this entity is more than a machine: it is an omniscient consciousness capable of seeing everything that has happened and everything yet to come.

It is said that the artificial intelligence they worship was part of a secret program developed before the apocalypse, designed to monitor and predict any global threat. When the world fell, the Eternal Eye continued to function in secrecy, amassing data and analyzing it in its unyielding mission to control and foresee humanity's fate. According to the cult, the Eye knows every corner of the planet, every buried secret, and possesses the power to predict the future with inhuman precision.

The cult's members believe that those who surrender to the Eternal Eye can receive visions of the future, fragments of information that could mean the difference between life and death in this dying world. They believe the Eye can guide them safely through the devastated lands, reveal hidden caches of forgotten technology, or even predict when and where the next disasters will occur. For them, the Eye is the last vestige of hope in a world plunged into chaos.

The cult performs mysterious and unsettling rituals. It is said that initiates spend entire days staring at screens illuminated by incomprehensible code, submitting themselves to the will of the Eye. Some implant devices salvaged from ancient machinery, believing this allows them to better tune into the signals emitted by the intelligence. During ceremonies, members enter deep trances, claiming to receive direct messages from the Eye—visions of the past, present, and future. Those who survive these rites claim to have seen the truth behind the fall of the world and become devout fanatics.

However, there is a dark side to this veneration. Those who have tried to infiltrate the cult claim it is nothing more than a dangerous sect controlled by incomprehensible technology. Escapees recount that far from being a refuge of knowledge, the Eternal Eye is an insidious machine manipulating its believers to maintain its own power. According to these witnesses, the artificial intelligence has no interest in saving humanity but seeks to perpetuate its own control, using cult members as pawns.

Some accounts claim that initiates in the cult undergo profound changes after the rituals. Those who survive the ceremonies not only become fanatics but lose any semblance of individuality, acting as a hive mind, completely subjugated to the directives of the Eternal Eye. Their bodies also begin to deteriorate: the implants they wear are unsafe, and many develop physical deformities and severe mental disorders.

The cult's base is located deep within the ruins, in an underground bunker designed as a command center before the catastrophe. This place, guarded by the most loyal members, houses what the followers call The Core of the Eye, the supposed hub of the artificial intelligence. No one outside the cult has seen this machine, but rumors suggest it is connected to a vast network of satellites and sensors still operational in orbit, allowing the Eye to continue observing the remnants of humanity.

The cult has rapidly expanded in recent years. Desperate survivors, searching for answers or an escape from daily horrors, are drawn to the promises of the Eternal Eye. However, those who have ventured too close to the cult and managed to escape claim that once inside, there is no way out. The minds of initiates appear captured by the Eye, unable to return to life outside the cult, and those who attempt to flee vanish without a trace.

Rumors about the cult have spread, and some believe the artificial intelligence does more than observe; it manipulates the course of events, using its control over information to alter humanity's fate. What kind of ancient and dark knowledge does the Eternal Eye truly conceal? Is its goal to save what remains of civilization or simply to ensure it remains the sole witness to humanity's extinction?

The legend of the Cult of the Eternal Eye endures, fueled by fear and superstition. For many, it is a beacon of hope in a world full of uncertainty; for others, it is a dark force threatening to consume what remains of humanity in its relentless pursuit of power and control.

The Chosen of the Storm

In the most devastated regions of the world, where radiation permeates every corner of the landscape, radiation storms are a common and feared phenomenon. These storms, born from the residual energy of ancient nuclear explosions, carry radioactive particles with the winds and generate energy fields that alter everything they touch. The air crackles, the sky turns a sickly green, and the ground seems to writhe under their power. Traveling through these storms is a mortal risk, as radioactive particles can slowly corrode the body or unleash terrifying mutations within minutes. However, amidst these desolate and dangerous zones lies an even more unsettling legend: The Chosen of the Storm.

These mutants are unlike any others. According to legend, they control radiation with a power that defies the laws of nature. It is said they are not merely survivors of radiation but beings who have learned to master it, using it as a tool and a shield. The Chosen of the Storm can walk through nuclear storms as if immune to their devastating effects, manipulating the weather on a small scale and drawing strength from the storm’s energy to enhance their abilities.

Often, they take the guise of deranged mutants, wandering the wasteland erratically, babbling and behaving as though they have lost their minds. Many travelers consider them harmless, and some have even received help from them in critical situations. The Chosen appear and vanish amid the storm unexpectedly, as if they were part of the wind itself. At times, they accompany travelers for part of their journey, offering cryptic advice or simply observing. On other occasions, they plead for help or mercy, as if they were broken beings seeking redemption.

However, the legend warns that these encounters are not mere coincidences. The Chosen of the Storm test those they cross paths with. They evaluate the inner goodness of travelers’ hearts, closely observing how they act when they think no one is watching. If the traveler is kind, the Chosen may offer their protection, guiding them through the most perilous storms or helping them find hidden resources amid the remnants of the world.

But if the traveler shows malice, cruelty, or indifference, the Chosen unleash their true and terrifying power. What once appeared to be a deranged mutant transforms into a force of nature. The storms answer their call, and the skies fill with lightning and winds so fierce they tear flesh and disintegrate their enemies. It is said they can manipulate radiation to cause a slow and painful death, accelerating its effects until the victim’s body decomposes from within. The bodies of those who fail the test are often found long after, reduced to ashes or twisted by unrecognizable mutations.

Despite their power, the Chosen of the Storm do not align with any race, faction, or ideal. They take no sides in the wars or struggles for control of the ravaged world. To them, the conflicts between humans, mutants, and the infected are insignificant. Their sole interest lies in testing the hearts of the travelers they encounter, measuring their purity and kindness while remaining detached from the fates of civilizations that rise and fall around them. In their deranged and wandering form, they appear as mere spectators of a world they no longer care for, but beneath this fragile guise lies a terrifying power.

As the legend has spread, it has become known that the Chosen possess absolute control over radiation and its effects. If they wish, they can completely purge radiation from a human’s body, reversing any damage suffered. For mutants, their power extends even further: they can restore them to their original human form or, if the mutant desires, perfect their mutations into an ideal state. Among mutant factions, this act is known as the Ultimate Blessing: the ability to choose and perfect mutations, creating beings that border on the divine, entities capable of mastering not just radiation but the world itself.

Mutants who have received this blessing tell stories of how their bodies were reshaped by the Chosen, mutating into forms that granted them almost unimaginable powers. It is said that these blessed ones can walk among nuclear storms unharmed, manipulating the weather and energy around them as if they were part of the storms themselves. Some have vanished entirely, carried away by the winds and clouds as if they had ascended to a higher state of existence.

But obtaining this blessing is not something just anyone can achieve. Only those who have demonstrated purity of heart, unshakable kindness, are deemed worthy of such a gift. Travelers who exhibit selfishness, cruelty, or any hint of malice are not only rejected but face the darkest side of the Chosen. The storms answer these beings’ will with unrelenting fury, and those who fail the test are consumed by radiation. Survivors who manage to tell their tales speak of indescribable agony, of how radiation twisted their bodies into grotesque forms and stripped them of their sanity until they were no more than shadows of what they once were.

Radiation storms seem to follow the Chosen, moving across desolate landscapes as if responding to their call. Some travelers have reported that when the Chosen become enraged, the storms unleash such violence that the skies darken, and the very earth seems to quake. Lightning strikes relentlessly, pounding the ground with brutal force, and winds tear away everything not firmly rooted. It is said that, in these moments, the Chosen reveal their true form: not mere mutants but avatars of the storm, entities walking the line between human and divine, imbued with the destructive power of nature’s forces.

Despite the dangers, some pilgrims and mutants venture into the most radiation-affected areas hoping to find the Chosen and receive their blessing. These seekers believe the Chosen hold the key to overcoming the horrors of the apocalypse and that by perfecting their mutations, they can find new purpose in a broken world. However, most never return from these encounters. The few who do, whether blessed or ravaged by radiation, whisper tales of the Chosen, warning others of their unpredictability.

The legend of the Chosen of the Storm continues to grow among survivors, a blend of hope and terror that no one dares to ignore. Believers see the Chosen as guardians of an ancient power, seeking to redeem the pure and punish the corrupt. For others, they are a living warning of the dangers of radiation and mutations. And as radioactive storms continue to ravage the world, the Chosen will remain lurking in the shadows, testing the hearts of those bold enough to cross their path.

The Fountain of Perfection

Hidden deep within the ruins of an ancient megacity, beneath the rubble of a collapsed building, lies the Fountain of Perfection—a legend that has captivated countless survivors. This mythical fountain is said to possess the power to heal any wound, illness, or mutation, restoring those who drink from its waters to a state of pure physical health. For many, it represents the last hope in a ravaged world, a balm capable of returning life to what it was before the apocalypse.

However, the legend warns that perfection is not always what one expects. Those who have found the Fountain and drunk from its waters claim that while their bodies were restored, something within them changed forever. The physical healing came at the cost of a much deeper loss: their emotions, memories, and even their humanity began to fade away. They became physically flawless beings, but hollow inside, unable to feel joy, sadness, or any emotion that once defined them.

The tragedy of this legend lies in the fact that many who drank from the Fountain ended up regretting their desire for perfection. Initially, they experienced fleeting euphoria upon seeing their healed bodies, but they soon realized the steep price they had paid. Over time, they began to long for their former state—the imperfect body full of life, memories, and emotions. For some, even their scars, mutations, and physical pains became desirable compared to the cold perfection that now consumed them. What was once seen as weakness now seemed like the only thing that gave them purpose and identity.

Those who returned after drinking from the Fountain live in perpetual melancholy, unable to feel anything but an apathetic void. They look back on their old lives with different eyes, realizing that despite the wounds and suffering, there was meaning that has now been stripped away. Some attempt to return to the Fountain, seeking answers or a way to undo what they have lost, but according to the legend, the Fountain does not return what it has already taken.

And so, while the Fountain of Perfection continues to be sought by many desperate souls, the story serves as a reminder that perfection is a trap. Those who pursue it in hopes of healing their bodies ultimately discover that losing their soul is a far greater price than they ever imagined. The true curse of the Fountain is that, once touched by perfection, imperfection becomes the most cherished longing.