The Lore

Year 2005. A peaceful morning over Chernarus was broken by one radio code: BLACK CODE.

A military convoy transporting experimental material crashed near Staroye.

Its cargo was top secret. Officially a vaccine. The truth was far worse.

The NVX-39 pathogen was released into the air.

Initial infections showed violent behavior and loss of consciousness.

Chernarus was quarantined. No one in. No one out.

Military forces were overwhelmed. Casualties mounted by the hour.

Civilians were abandoned.

Only a few thousand survived. Those who fought. Those who ran.

The world fell into chaos. Global collapse followed within weeks.

Other nations withdrew. No help ever came.

In the northern mountains, one unit held – led by General Edward King.

King – a veteran of the Balkan conflicts. Cold. Calculating. Resilient.

From his hidden base, a survivor network was born.

Radios began repeating his message: 'Survival is duty. Justice endures.'

No one knows how he survived. But his voice still echoes today.

Some say he's a myth. Others call him a savior.

Survivors split into three kinds.

Those who follow King. Those who take what they want. And those who hide.

Bunkers beneath the mountains became legend – King is said to live within.

Drones marked EC-K-05 drop supplies in old military patterns.

Some carry food. Others carry guns and encrypted notes.

PvE zones were once safe havens. PvP zones are old battlegrounds.

Contaminated zones remain deadly.

Green gas marks danger. The result of emergency chemical bombing.

NBC gear is survival gear – not a luxury.

Underground labs are guarded. Enter uninvited – and die.

King's doctrine is simple:

1. Don't kill without purpose.

2. Help those who help you.

3. Protect the towers. The towers are life.

Abandoned bases are scattered across the land.

Some still transmit. Weak signals. Morse code. King might still be alive.

After 20 years, the world is silent – but not dead.

What's left of civilization gathers in ruins: Petrovka, Berezino, Vybor.

Each survivor is a story.

We all carry loss. We all search for meaning.

Traders in the south exchange rumors for blood.

In the north, a resistance rises – they call themselves The Purifiers.

They claim to know King personally. They carry his words in encrypted codes.

Every week, secret broadcasts are heard.

If you hear a beep at 01:00, King is speaking to you.

AirDrops aren't random. They're a reply.

Keycard bunkers test your faith. Risk all – gain all.

Those who survive 30 days wear a patch: the eagle-cross.

It's the mark of The First. King's chosen.

Legend says one day he'll return with an army from the bunkers.

Some say he's dead. Others say he never lived.

But all survivors owe him the system.

There is no government. Only fragments of command.

Every sunset is a reminder: the world ended. Life did not.

Hateful DayZ is not just another survival server.

It's a simulation of collapse. No rules. No saves.

Your weapons are your language.

Players shape their own laws.

Some worship the infection as cleansing.

Others hunt anyone who once wore a uniform.

One thing is certain: the truth lies in the bunkers.

General King knew what NVX-39 really was.

His officers hid fragments of data across the land.

So-called 'Truth Containers' open with KeyCards.

Each card holds a fragment. Five unlock access.

Some lie in toxic zones. Others guarded by rogue AI.

The survivor who opens the final bunker starts the next chapter.

The server watches. Lore evolves with its players.

Hateful DayZ is a living world. No repeats.

Each day is unique. Each player writes history.

General King may just be a name. Or a symbol.

But his voice... everyone hears it after 7 days of survival.

The map is a backdrop. The real game is in people.

Those who join for fun die fast.

Those who arrive with purpose survive and rise.

PvP is challenge. PvE is a choice. Lore connects both.

Rest in daylight. Hunt in shadow. Watch your back.

Trust only those who offer water while you bleed.

Every radio may be a trap. Every house a grave.

But each player can change the world's direction.

The goal is not to survive. The goal is to matter.

Track the signal. Seek King. Radios only lie sometimes.

One day, the Omega Bunker will open.

When it does, the world will change again.

Until then… fight. Believe. And don't die stupid.

Welcome to Chernarus.

Welcome to Hateful DayZ.

There are no saves.

Only now.