The streets were quieter than they should've been.
Even at dawn, this part of the city used to hum with life — vendors setting up carts, people rushing to work, honking taxis, footsteps, and conversation. Now, it felt like walking through the bones of a dead animal. Hollow. Still. Watching.
The wind kicked up some dust, and a crumpled flyer fluttered past my feet. I picked it up without thinking."CIVIL DEFENSE INITIATIVE — REPORT SYMPTOMS IMMEDIATELY"There was a smiling face on it. Fake. Sanitized.I crushed it in my hand and kept walking.
I didn't know where I was going — maybe I just wanted to move, to remind myself that I was still here. Still breathing. Still sane. Sort of.
My footsteps echoed as I passed the old café that used to serve the best black coffee I'd ever had. Its windows were shattered now, ivy creeping in from the cracks, as if nature had decided to reclaim what humanity abandoned.
I paused and stared at the spray-painted words on the side of the building:"THE DEAD WALK, THE SKY BURNS, AND GOD HAS LEFT US."
Someone had tried to scrub it off, but the words bled through like a scar that refused to fade.
I leaned against a rusted streetlamp and looked up at the sky. Grey clouds churned above, thick with the residue of fallout and ash. They'd never gone back to normal, not really. The sun still rose, but it never felt warm, like the light had given up on us.
There were theories about why the aliens came. Some said they were drawn by the noise we made trying to kill each other. Others believed they were always watching, just waiting for us to be weak enough. The nukes did more than destroy the land; they screamed into space. Like a flare. An invitation.
We sent fire into the sky, and something answered.
I kicked a loose rock into the street and watched it tumble until it disappeared into the open sewer grate. I wondered how many people had vanished the same way — swallowed by the underbelly of a world collapsing in slow motion.
A dog barked somewhere in the distance. A low, tired sound. Still alive, still hungry. Like me.
I sat on the curb, resting my elbows on my knees, fingers tightening into fists. I had $1,556 left to my name, and I was about to hand $1,200 of it to a guy I'd never met, for weapons I hadn't seen, in a city where trust got you killed.
And yet… I couldn't stop now. I wouldn't.
Something was coming. Worse than zombies. Worse than radiation storms.They were coming to finish what they started.
And this time, I wasn't just going to survive.I was going to be ready.