(Wait, just a question. When did I get in Kyoto, I wasn't with Smith. ALso, My character is cautious about being anywhere near Attrianna. He's still pretty sure she's waiting for a chance to shove a few tons of C4 down his throat)
Sam walked around the streets of New Chicago. It was still relatively small, roughly 10,000 people lived there, no more no less. It was only three miles away from the crater that used to be Chicago. Sam was here to meet with Jaden, hopefully. While sitting at a cafe, he saw a poster for the game based on the first war. Sam smirked The things people'll do for money. Sam had told them, quite frankly and openly that in order for them to use his likeness and his voice, they'd have to pay him 20%, and give the rest to everyone else in the group, and to the creation of New Chicago. Seeing as how the game will probably sell easily into the 12 digit range, he'd be pretty rich, as would his friends. They'd prabably be pissed off that he'd approved of the game, but people need money, and some people make money by making games.
Besides, noone would know, and as long as they kept to the true story, not making Attrianna some Ripped She-male Mercenary, or Aiden some sickly half-zombie, or Himself some scheming villain intent on blowing up Chicago, there'd be no lawsuits.
Jaden's probably not coming. Sam sighed and got up, paying his bill, and trying to avoid the glares of praise and dissaproval. Most were of dissaproval, nobody bothered to check the phone record, to see that noone even called his phone, that the Nuke going off was a fluke, probably just some zombie tripping over the right cords or something.
Sam had a loathing for people who never got the full story. They never even bothered to check and judged him on the half-story they had. He hated the ones who hated him even more. He never even bothered to defend himself, with the whole "Vlad said that the Hive-Mind, which was essentially a giant computer, would over-load if enough zombies died at one point. The thing would be trying to re-assign millions of zombies, while simultaneously recording millions of zombies death. It would short-circuit and end the whole thing." What really made Sam laugh was how he got the blame. Ofcourse, not Vlad, who not only created the virus, but also the nuke. Not Attrianna, who he's sure he could find a way to blame her later, not Aiden, who attacked the entire group and carried the nuke. But the 19 year old lieutenant in the Army, who new something about Improvised Explosive Devices.
"What a wonderful world!" Sam said as he went home in his Silver Porsche.
Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.