With how poorly received the ending of the last story was, I apologize for how it played out. Hopefully, I can do it justice and attempt to make this season greater!

The first two chapters after this will be similar to season 3 of The Walking Dead, but I assure you it will change dramatically as the story pushes on.

Now without further ado...

The Walking Dead: Termination Season 3

Chapter 1: Prologue

Atlanta, Georgia, June 17, 2011: (Center for Disease Control)

There was once a time when the world was normal. There were no worries of a virus violently spreading, ultimately leading to a deadly outbreak. No chaos and anarchy. There was no worry about a machine triggered nuclear apocalypse. Fighting a war that meant humanities fate. It was only about living life to fullest, trying to accomplish as much as you could before you got too old, and your time to pass finally came.

But now….. now, what was the point? This was it. Their extinction event. He just never thought he'd be living through that day. Humanity now hung on a thread, and there was no bouncing back from this. Nature had enough of humanity's careless decisions to poison this world and decided to retaliate.

The dead have risen. He tried everything in his power to cure this phenomenon. It was all futile.

"6 minutes until decontamination."

Alarms blared throughout the entire room, as the large video monitor begun a countdown. But for what exactly? She had only been here for two months. What could have happened? In the hallway, a redheaded woman marched down the corridor, until she found herself in the main cortex. There, she immediately found a lone man sitting in one of the chairs drinking from a bottle of wine.

One thing ran through the man's mind as he would take a long swig from a wine bottle: this was it. The end. All he could do was feel sorry for himself. He felt like he had truly failed not just himself, but his wife. Better yet, he failed the entire world.

"What is the meaning of this, Doctor Jenner?" The woman demanded in a flat tone. She referred to the alarms, and more specifically, the large countdown timer.

"Vi has prioritized power to other more important functions." Jenner simply answered, taking another swig from his wine bottle.

The woman walked up to him, and snatched the bottle from his hand and glared at him with confusion. "And what is it prioritizing?" Jenner didn't answer and instead looked at the large computer monitor. "Edwin, don't make me ask again. What is Vi prioritizing?"

"You know what this place is, Catherine. We've protected the public from some very nasty things." Jenner blared loudly. Catherine didn't seem fazed by his sudden violence demeanor. "The French were the last to hold out. They kept going for as long as they could while my people were running out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they had a solution, but the same thing is happening here."

"The end?" Catherine tilted her head.

"No power grid. They ran out of juice." Jenner clarified. "The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"

"I don't understand?" Catherine continued to stare at the man in absolute confusion. "You still haven't answered my question. Why is Vi prioritizing all power to other functions?"

"In the event of a catastrophic power failure, or terrorist attack, for example. HITs are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

Catherine's eyes went wide upon hearing this. "You plan on destroying this facility?"

"It's not something I control! The computer does!" Jenner explained.

"Then ask Vi to stop the countdown, Jenner." Catherine more hastily.

Jenner shook his head. "As I said, I can't do that. It's better this way. For me at least."

"Taking the cowards way out?" Catherine inquired. "Where I came from, people have seen more death and destruction than what has happened here. Some kept fighting, and some didn't give up when facing difficult odds."

"Save it, Weaver!" Jenner slammed his fist into the console. "I don't need to hear anything from you! Not from some… some damn machine! You will never know what it's like to lose everything! To end up here, alone underground for God knows how long, looking for a cure that doesn't even exist! To have whoever is still remaining out there's hope, but secretly knowing that it will be all shit on in the next few minutes!"

"If that's what you want, then I am leaving. If this building is indeed facing imminent destruction, then I don't want to be caught in it."

Catherine turned to leave and started stalking towards the door. But to her absolute surprise, the blast doors shut right in front of her. She looked at the scientist with rage in her eyes.

"Open the door."

"I told you that when those doors close, there is no opening them again. You heard me say that."

"That was before I knew you planned on locking me in here with you." Weaver pointed out. "Open the door, Edwin." To empathize her seriousness, Weaver's arm turned into a silvery mass, with a blade taking form.

"Now."

"I'm dead anyway," Jenner calmly said and took a seat. "Do what you must, but no-one is leaving."

"Your wife was a brilliant woman. She wouldn't want this-"

"And what makes you think you even know what she would have wanted?" Jenner asked. "Tell me, Weaver. What makes you think that?"

"Because I have a daughter!" Weaver unexpectedly snapped. "By killing me, I will never get to see her again."

"You're a damn machine! How can you have a daughter!? How can you even feel anything for her!?"

"I took her in when her mother passed. I do love her… that is a fact I have ignored for far too long." She looked back at Jenner, with a more pleading expression. "I understand more than you believe. Please give me the chance to see her again. I am the only one who can protect her."

Jenner was stunned. A few nights ago he planned on calling it quits and putting a gun in his mouth. But when Catherine showed up, some hope in him returned, if very little. She offered her assistance in finding a cure, to which he couldn't say no. The more help, the better. During that time she revealed what she really was, taking the free time to educate him on her past, and what would've come. He learned first hand that machines were emotionless, and only had a goal in mind.

But to hear this now? Coming from a machine that specifically told him all this? What was it? Did they feel? Was it all just some lie?

"I'm sorry, Catherine… I can't open the doors," he sadly informed. The look on Weaver's face turned into disappointment. "But… there is a ventilation shaft that leads to the roof of the building. You can escape through there."

For the first time since meeting Catherine Weaver, Jenner actually saw her smile. It was a beautiful smile. One that he was happy to see with what time is left.

"48 seconds until decontamination."

He looked at the clock, seeing that there were only forty seconds left. Time really did fly by.

"Goodbye, Edwin. It was a pleasure working with you." Without waiting for a response, Catherine melted into her silvery mass and started climbing the walls until she had squeezed through the vent located on the south side of the cortex.

When she was gone, Jenner took the wine bottle and taking another swig. He chuckled to himself as the counter ran out.

"Goodluck, Catherine."

Before he could process another thought, the ground shook violently, and a bright light was what greeted him. Then there was silence.

KABOOM!

The whole structure shook and crumbled as fire had engulfed every square inch. The deafening explosion could be heard for miles. Then, there was silence. Crackling was all that was heard, while smoke has risen from the destroyed structure. In the flames, Weaver emerged and turned to look at what was once the Center for Disease Control. But now… now it was a heap of rubble and fire. No-one could have survived that. Yet she did. Not even escaping in enough time, she was able to walk out unscathed.

Now it was over. There would be no cure to be found. What was next?

Weaver broke out of her thoughts upon hearing shouting, and cries of… joy? All originating from the distance. She turned into her silvery mass once more, and melted into the ground, camouflaging herself, where she began skimming her way over to the familiar voices, where she silently observed from a few feet away.

She watched as the female had tightly engulfed a young man, and a teenage girl into a tight embrace while yelling out their names. She immediately recognized them. John Connor; his cyborg protector: Cameron; and Alex Mathews.

"A-Alex? How!?" John inquired in disbelief.

"I should be asking you two the same thing!" Alex mockingly quipped to both of them. "I can't believe you're here!" She had her family back. She held them in her arms, with tears starting to run down her face.

Weaver then noticed someone- no, some other people join the small formed group. James Ellison, and… Savannah? She was here, too? How? Everyone she befriended was almost a thousand miles away. Where she had left them. After everything went down. She was thankful that her daughter was here, and was alive. After seeing first hand what this virus was, she feared the worse for Savannah.

Alex didn't want too, but she knew she had to let them go eventually. She reluctantly released the two from the embrace and saw two more familiar faces run up to them. "It's really good to see you, Ellison," She greeted and shook the former agent's hand.

"What are the odds that we'd find you here?" Ellison chuckled and returned the gesture.

Alex looked down, next to Ellison and saw the little redhead who cowered behind the man. She knelt down towards Savannah and gave her a bright smile. "Hello, Savannah."

"Hi, Alex," Savannah replied shyly. She met Alex before but thought she was a little off sometimes. A little messed up in the head when she spoke.

"Alex!"

Weaver reacted slightly when hearing a foreign voice shout one of her associate's name. She was about to consider him a possible threat as the man walked up to them. But due to the relaxed looked, and posture Alex had, she didn't intervene. She only waited until there was a reason to attack the stranger.

"We have to leave now-" the man explained frantically, until stopped mid-sentence, when he saw the small group of people that Alex was standing amongst. "Alex. Who are they?" he asked, tightly gripping his shotgun just in case. He didn't know these people, and by the looks the brunette teenager gave him, he judged her as considering to take his weapon.

"Shane, This is John, Cameron, James Ellison, and Savannah Weaver," Alex introduced. "I knew them back in Los Angeles."

Shane eyed the new group, but lowered his shotgun, a moment later, and stuck his hand out at John. "Officer Shane Walsh with the King County police department."

John hesitantly gave Shane's hand a firm shake before letting go. He still didn't trust just anyone. Not after Oklahoma. Cameron just glared at him with her stoic expression. She too didn't trust him. John was honestly surprised she didn't rip his throat out or unload an entire clip into him.

As if irony was the main factor behind his thoughts, Cameron raised her Glock 17 at four more people who came running up to them. By the looks of them, they were part of the same group, Cameron assessed. One wore some light tan police uniform, while the others wore more casual clothing. The woman wore a button shirt, and the slightly more obese man wore a white tank top. The last one was an elderly man, who wore a Hawaiian shirt, complete with a fishing cap. They didn't give the appearance of a threat, so she eased back a little and relaxed.

The man who was wearing the sheriff's uniform stepped forward and stood right next to Shane as he suspiciously eyed John and Cameron. "Who are they?" He asked Shane specifically.

Shane reintroduced everyone to whom their names were revealed to be Rick Grimes, Morales, Lori Grimes, and Dale. They shared a brief conversation before Shane interrupted. "As much as this reunion warms my heart, we have to leave before any Walkers show up."

Everyone else nodded in acknowledgment. It was already dark outside, with the only light they had come from the fire that was still raging in the ruins of what once was the Center for Disease Control. Right now a safe place was of top priority. With that, everybody piled back into their vehicles and drove away from the scene, in search of any safe haven they could find at the dark hours of the night.

3 Days After CDC Destruction:

The more they moved through vehicles, the harder she found it to keep up. Even for a T-1000 who had the capabilities to easily sprint after them, she found that staying at a distance was more ideal. For the meantime at least. Revealing herself in front of this group, that John Connor had started following, was not something she had intent with. Only when they decided to move on, she'd join them, and Savannah.

But for the meantime, she took to staying right on the highway where the group had set supplies for Savannah. She stood stoically, right next to the old tan colored Mustang until either a Walker passed by, where she would kill it; or the group would return and she'd have to hide. Mostly through blending her mass into the vehicle's exterior.

Sometimes, a small, unknown group would come passing by, where she'd hide out until they came close enough to the vehicle, and see the supplies left, and try to steal them. It was quite foolish however when they would immediately meet a metal spear into their chests and would be dragged away into the bushes. There, Catherine took any picked up items, from the left supplies, and set them back on the hood, in their original spot.

5 Days After CDC Destruction:

Another foolish human made the mistake of walking into the trap. Walking into her trap, where they would try and take Savannah's food and water. She would never let that happen, and she would never leave until Savannah came to her.

She had her mind made up. When Savannah came back, she'd take her back to the Greene family farm, and join up with John Connor and his cyborgs. She couldn't show her true nature of course, but she'd be with Savannah, and that's all that mattered to her.

But right now. Now, she needed to be rid of this heavy body. After a few days, she began to tally her kills on the poor, disparate groups that kept passing by.

Catherine dragged the man down the hill, and into the woods, where she found a convenient hole near a pond that was perfect for hiding the bodies. They were perfect, aside for the hole being empty every time she returned. But she knew the reason. The reason why it was always free space and would always remain that way.

After hiding away the body, Catherine exited the hole and walked up the creek bed. As she began to stalk back to the interstate, she immediately stopped when she heard leaves rustling, and twigs snapping. Her hands morphed into two metal blades, and she quickly turned around, ready to strike.

But thanks to her reflexes, she stopped immediately, when she saw it to be a redheaded girl to have wrapped her arms around her waist. The same red hair that she had.

"Mommy!" Savannah exclaimed with weakness. Catherine's hands turned back to normal and she looked down at her daughter with a blank expression. But deep down she was delighted to see her daughter. That was until she looked closer and saw the gash on her shoulder.

Before she could even begin to inquire what happened, her daughter fell to the ground, kicking up leaves and dirt. Immediately, she bent down to her daughter's aid and rolled Savannah onto her lap. She closely examined the wound and saw it to be bleeding erratically.

"Savannah… w-what happened?" Catherine inquired with a strain of sorrow.

"A m-m-monster… a-a-attacked me…" Savannah explained with tears falling down her cheek. Catherine noticed the signs. She was sweating, her eyes were red, and she had an extreme fever.

She knew what this was. After studying the symptoms, she knew exactly what was occurring. There was one thing that she was made up of, and it felt as if she was melting. There was this girl, that posed as her daughter, and she was dying in her arms. "Savannah. I don't know what to do."

"I-I'm s-s-s-scared," she whimpered.

Catherine forced a sad smile. Her eyes felt as of moisture has collected, and was dripping down her face. She touched her cheek, only to see her liquid mass form back onto the surface of her skin.

She was crying? How? She was a killing machine and an efficient one at that. Was this part of Skynet's design when creating her? This wasn't possible, she could never feel anything like this before.

It wasn't real, it had to be. Both events were just some daydream, some elaborate glitch. But they weren't. Being a model that didn't suffer anything as did other Terminators. She was a unique design, probably as special as Cameron. She was experiencing… emotion for the first time, and didn't know how to feel about it.

What she told Jenner was originally false. She only used his emotions to trick him into feeling empathy so that she could survive. It was all for self-preservation, yet now…. Now what she told herself was a lie. What she told Jenner was the truth, and she didn't know it yet.

"I… I'm sorry Savannah." This time there was nothing held back. Half of her liquid mass had seeped from her eyes, and she quivered quietly while stroking Savannah's hair, trying to comfort her. "I wish I was a better mother to you. I left to protect you, and to save you… but even I failed that mission."

"Will you stay with me?" Savannah requested weakly.

And she did. Catherine stayed sitting on the ground, with her daughter dying on her lap; as the life began to slowly fade out of her. She softly talked to Savannah, recalling past memories, and things she wished she could have done better for her. She even recited a song that she once heard Savannah and John Henry sing from long ago. She did everything to make the little innocent girl's passing as peaceful as it could have been.

But inevitably, she succumbed to the infection. As she took her last breath, all Catherine could do was show the first-ever signs of sympathy, and close Savannah's eyes. It wouldn't be long until the next stage happened.

She would need to do it.

One Week Later:

Catherine stood there like she always did. But this time, her hands and face were covered with dry blood. Her white dress was swapped out for a pair of jeans, boots, and a green buttoned up shirt. A style taken from one of the previously killed survivors, who she came across.

But now there was nothing left. No food- no water. Nothing.

Savannah was gone. That was all that went through her mind. When going out into the wilderness to hide a dead body, she came across a scared, dying girl, whom she loved in her own way. But now she was gone. Killed by the very things she came to Georgia to prevent.

She made a promise to herself once. She would join John Connor as soon as Savannah came back to her. But that wasn't the case, as she was dead. There was honestly no reason to even function. There was no more mission; no Judgement Day, no fighting Skynet. Nothing.

Standing here like a complete and utter fool was what she was considering to be a valid punishment for her lack of emotion to anything, or anyone. Killing any poor soul who she came across. Now she mostly let any passers-by take some of the food for their travels. They needed it, and Savannah didn't.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. She hesitated to end it quickly when Savannah turned. She couldn't do what she was designed for and kill her. What was she now? An empathetic robot that showed emotion? She wasn't sure. But watching someone else kill her daughter's reanimated corpse was something she'd regret for days to come.

Catherine rushed out of her thoughts when she looked on at the distance, where she saw a very horrifying sight for any human.

A herd of Walkers slowly creeping their way down the interstate. Although time seemed to stop, she read 3:47 pm on her chronometer. There was still a good few hours left of daylight, and they'd soon pass by.

But being the lifeless, mindless beings they were, they would attack her once they approached. They were quite efficient at even attacking a waving flag or a leaf in the wind. If she didn't smell like them, she was not one of them.

As the herd of Walkers drew nearer, Catherine turned into a silvery mass and melted into the asphalt, where she patiently waited for the herd to pass by.

That was, until an hour later, when the herd had finally ended, and a loud explosion was heard out in the distance. Easily, she saw every Walker stop what they were doing and started walking towards the source of the sound.

With her curiosity peaked, she followed after the Herd and slithered along the ground. However, she stopped for a brief moment upon seeing something that caught her eye.

A woman walking amongst the Herd, with two Walkers on chains, behind her. Because of the two armless, and jawless Walkers, none of the surrounding dead corpses didn't attack her as the result. This was quite interesting, to say the least. Never had she seen a strange display of humans using Walkers as some sort of camouflage.

This would serve to be quite useful than just resorting to shifting around on the ground. Catherine fell behind the Herd and stopped to reform herself, before she found two lone Walkers and cut off their arms and jaws, repeating the same process as the woman. She then found an old tire swing in the woods and used it's rope as a leash to guide the two with her.

It proved to work, surprisingly. The Walkers did, in fact, serve as some sort of camo, and none of the other ones attacked her. She was invisible, thus one of them practically. It didn't make sense as to why they didn't attack her, but whatever worked, she didn't really care too much about.

Now that was done, Catherine began to follow up with the Herd as they made their way towards the unknown sound source.

•••

Hours had passed, and the long line of Walkers had suddenly dispersed and had spread out over a vast field. Since being in the very back of this large Herd, she arrived last, thus hearing what occurred on the other end. It was people who caused that explosion. It was people who opened fired on the Herd as it neared. But now…. Now it was quiet. There was not a peep, aside from the groans of Walkers.

Finally, the Walkers had moved out of her field of vision, and she had a good look at where she was at. She saw what this location was, her eyes widened, as she looked on at the smoldering barn, and the dead people having their flesh eaten. Walkers roamed about, looking for a new meal.

They were gone. Not that she planned on joining them that is. After Savannah, she saw no reason to join up with John Connor and his cyborg companions. She deemed it a punishment to be alone and to just watch from a distance. But now, she was here, and she was too late to stop anything.

"Please help me!"

Catherine's head jolted to the right, as she looked a few yards away from her, there were two Walkers shuffling after a man, whom was bound, and was attempting to get away from the dead.

He wasn't of importance. She turned, and began to stalk away, in attempts to search the whole property, until the man had spoken again; this time, begged.

"Please help me! Please!"

If she were human, Catherine would have rolled her eyes in annoyance. This man was quite persistent. She stalked up to the two Walkers and used her right arm to instantly decapitate them. With that done, she turned on her heels and began to walk away from the man. He was of no importance, and she showed all the empathy she could.

The man was shocked to see this woman's hands just turn from a silver blade, back to a fist as she stalked away with her two Walkers. He struggled to stand up, but use all of his might to drag himself closer to the woman. "Wait! Hold on! Can you please cut me free!?"

She stopped immediately, and looked back at the man, with her eyes boring at him. He gulped in fear as she stomped up to him, and stood above him with her arm transforming back into a large blade. He wasn't sure what she was, but by the looks of her lifeless face expression, she intended to kill him, and he could do nothing about it. He only wished that it would be quick and painless, and not slow, like a Walker eating you alive. He closed his eyes shut, and prepared for what was to inevitably come next.

There was nothing. No bright light, no silence. He opened his eyes and saw for a fact that he was still alive and was free from his binds. He looked back up to see that the woman was still towering above him, but with her hand extended out at him. After seeing what she could do, he cautiously took her hand and was easily lifted up onto his feet.

"T-thank you." He stammered uncontrollably, trying his best to not display any fear whatsoever.

"What happened here?" Weaver demanded flatly. The field of dead humans and the dead walking corpses brought great concern. The barn even more so, as it was engulfed in flames.

"We...we were attacked by some...some group." he hesitated. "Mine left while I was captured."

Weaver's interest was immediately caught to attention. "You were part of this group?" He nodded in response. "Where have they gone?"

"I-I'm not sure," the man stammered while rubbing his head.

"Then you are of no use to me, then," Weaver simply said. With that, she left the man she just saved, standing in the field as more Walkers were drawn towards his movements. With no choice but to run the other way, Weaver soon lost sight of the human. Maybe the dead got him, but that wasn't her concern. Finding John Connor was her priority right now.

•••

Tracking was her specialty. Finding her designated target was what she was created for. In a time that no longer existed, now she used it to find those whom she knew. Old allies and what she called friends were all that she had left. But in a world so broken, a world so engulfed by death far worse than the absent future offered, it was very slim that John Connor would be alive. Even with his cyborgs, John was human. Once bitten by the dead, the stages of his death would begin. No protector can save him from that fate.

Time and time again, Weaver spent roaming the back roads of Georgia. It had been over five days since she had lost track of their whereabouts. The only trace she ever found was the small camps they would set up before moving on. Vehicles were left in favor of having more fuel, canned food was eaten and thrown aside as they scavenged. They were here but not anymore.

Humans kept moving in times of distress and danger. With no home- no shelter, she had to catch up with them soon.

About 9.85 miles away, she could see a town drawing near. The tracks of John Connor were present, heading towards such a place of possible danger. Where he went, she went. Weaver followed the trail until she entered the deserted, and Walker infested town.

In a time where humanity ruled, all traces were frozen in time. The only remnants were the abandoned cars that were left in the midst of the early chaos. Shops were looted, people were killed. Nothing can change what happened. Just like Judgement Day, the old world ended.

There was no trace of them. Where the trail ended, she was now lost. How can she have lost them? The tracks can't lead here and just end, can they?

With no direction anymore, Weaver roamed the town until she could find some lead. John Connor can't be far, he is somewhere. Either that or he was dead. It wasn't like the world had much use for him now. His destiny was no longer needed. Humanity was dying fast.

That search soon led to an old shopping center. It was a small little mart, but it was probably still stocked with food and other provisions. The few cars parked out the back proved to her that someone was inside.

She approached the broken sliding doors until an old store shelf blocked her access. She shifted into a silver mass and crawled over the shelf until she was inside. Everything was moved to the corner, the middle of the store was expanded and tents, along with a makeshift fire was set up. With the flames still burning bright, someone was still here. But where was everyone?

*CLICK*

"Who are you?"

The cold barrel of the gun felt similar to her skin. The man's voice sounded threatening. If she were human, she would have trembled in fear. But she wasn't, and this man couldn't hurt her.

"Answer me!" The man spat.

Weaver whirled around and snatched the shotgun out of his hands with such great speeds, the stranger was sent flying back. In retaliation, he brandished a Glock 9mm handgun and began to unload on the redhead.

But instead of blood, there were just large silver holes that reformed after impact. His eyes widened in absolute fear as Weaver aimed the gun at him, prepared to end his life.

"Rick!"

More people came rushing out from the back, all armed with melee weapons and other firearms. She stopped what she doing when all survivors outnumbered her. She could easily kill them, but they didn't know that.

The name Rick seemed to peak her interest. That was definitely the man that was with John at the time of the CDC collapse.

The click of Ricks gun seemed to pull Weaver out of her head. "Put the gun down, or we will kill you."

She complied and dropped the weapon and rose her hands in surrender. When she turned around, she had a good look at all of them. All were dirty and looked like hell, but it was them. John Connor and Alex Mathews lowered their weapons when they saw who was standing amongst them.

"Weaver?" John inquired. "You're alive?"

"It seems you are as well, John. It's good to see you again," Weaver smirked. "You too, Alex."