TRANSMISSION ONE – BLOG LOG

📡 TRANSMISSION ONE – BLOG LOG

Location: Duchesne, Utah Bunker
Signal Status: Weak – Limited Window
Date: [Classified]

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION LOG]

This is Kenneth, broadcasting from the bunker in Duchesne, Utah.
Signal clarity: low. Static interference: high. Time window: unknown.
If you are receiving this… you are one of the few. One of the survivors.

First, let me say this clearly: we are grateful you are here.

In a world where the lights went out, where the cities burned and the dead rose, the fact that you’re still breathing, still listening, and still fighting means everything. Every heartbeat on the other end of this transmission reminds us we are not alone. That’s what keeps us going down here in the dark halls of the bunker.

We don’t have much time. The static is building again. But before this signal cuts, you need to hear this.

A Word of Gratitude

You didn’t have to find this broadcast. You didn’t have to fight through the shadows, the fear, and the endless nights just to tune in. But you did. And that means you’re not just a survivor—you’re part of this resistance.

Every time one of you makes it through another night, every time you take shelter, gather food, or whisper a prayer before dawn… you remind us that humanity is still alive. We are bound together—not by what we’ve lost, but by what we’re determined to protect.

I want you to hold onto that. Because the days ahead will demand everything we have left.

Transmission Schedule Update

Our next signal—Transmission Two—has already been prepared. Expect it sometime next week. We cannot provide exact timing; the enemy listens too closely. Stay vigilant. Check in daily. Do not assume silence means defeat. When the frequency clears, we will speak again.

Until then, guard your radios. Keep them charged. Keep your people close. Trust only those who have proven themselves.

Character Profile: EZEKIEL

Before the static takes me, I need you to know who is standing beside you in this fight. You’ve heard whispers about survivors. You’ve wondered who else is out here. Let me tell you about one of them.

His name is Ezekiel.

Ezekiel wasn’t born a soldier. He was born a farmer on the outskirts of what used to be Salt Lake. The soil was his life, his hands calloused from years of planting and reaping. He lived simple, quiet, until the world cracked open. When the sky turned dark and the dead walked, Ezekiel didn’t run. He stood.

Armed with little more than a shovel and his faith, he defended his land, his family, and the stragglers who stumbled onto his property, broken and starving. He lost more than most men could bear, but he never surrendered his will. Those who walk beside him now call him “The Shepherd.” Not because he leads with fear or force, but because he watches over the flock—the lost and the broken—keeping them alive when everything else screams death.

He’s the kind of man who carries his scars openly. He doesn’t boast, doesn’t waste words. But when he speaks, people listen. Because his voice carries the weight of survival.

If you see Ezekiel on the road, you’ll know him. Tall frame. Weathered eyes. A cross etched into the handle of his blade. He is proof that even in the ashes of civilization, strength can still be quiet, and hope can still wear a human face.

He is one of us. And as long as men like Ezekiel stand, there is still a chance for light to break through the dark.

Final Warning and Hope

Survivors—listen closely.
The world you knew is gone. The laws, the systems, the comforts—they’ve collapsed into dust. But this is not the end of the story. This is the proving ground.

Hold fast. Don’t let fear become your commander. Prepare yourselves for what is coming. And know that we will not stop sending these transmissions, no matter how much the darkness presses in.

The bunker here in Duchesne is still holding. Supplies are low. Power is unstable. But as long as this transmitter hums, we’ll keep fighting to make contact. We’ll keep the signal alive.

Orders for Survivors

• Stay sharp. The dead are not the only enemy.

• Trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it is.

• Gather in small groups when possible. Isolation breeds weakness.

• Conserve your energy, your ammo, your faith. You’ll need all three.

• And above all: stay alive.

Another transmission is coming. Be ready.

Until then… this is Kenneth from Duchesne bunker, signing off.

Stay safe. Stay human. Stay free.

[END TRANSMISSION LOG]

Signal lost.
Reboot in T-minus: 7 days (approx.)