Date: April 20th, 2027
Place: New York City – Lower East Side – Cleared Apartment Building
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The lobby was quiet that morning.
Not the silence of lurking death — we'd cleared that out. But the heavy, waiting quiet of a place that had been emptied of life. Sunlight slanted through boarded windows, catching on the streaks of dried blood smeared across the tiles. Furniture was stacked against the doors, though the glass beyond was already shattered.
We sat around the pile of scavenged supplies. Cans. Bottled water. Tools. Weapons. It didn't look like much when stacked together, not when I thought about how long it might need to last.
Miguel crouched beside it, rolling a can of peaches between his hands like it was treasure. "Hard to believe this junk's all that's left between us and starving."
Henry leaned against the wall, crowbar balanced across his knees. "Then make it last. World doesn't care if you're picky."
Claire sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully repacking her Traveler's Backpack. Her hazel eyes darted nervously between the men as they bickered. She placed a med kit inside as if it were glass, her fingers trembling slightly.
I knelt by the supplies, pulling up my HUD.
[Inventory: 9 / 10 Slots Occupied]
- Hammer (Equipped)
- Kitchen Knives (x3)
- Canned Food (x6)
- Bottled Water (x4)
- Cloth Bandages (x3)
- Brute Fang (Weapon Component)
- Rusted Nails (x12)
- Skill Book: Quick Step (Unassigned)
- Essence Crystal (Stored, Common)
A tight knot pulled in my chest. It wasn't enough. Not for long.
"Check your slots," I said quietly.
Miguel sighed dramatically but muttered, "Nine out of eleven. Mostly food. Got a bat too — duct-taped the hell out of it. Thing's solid."
Claire glanced at me before whispering, "Nine out of thirteen. Mostly medical supplies. The backpack… really helps."
Henry grunted. "Seven out of ten. Tools and nails. Crowbar's staying on me."
I nodded. "Good. Then we can carry more when we go out. But we only take what we can't find here."
Miguel smirked faintly. "Translation: don't hoard like a dumbass."
Henry snorted. "Took you long enough to figure that out."
Miguel shot him a glare, but Claire's nervous laugh cut the tension before it grew.
I stood slowly, hammer in hand. The weight of it grounded me. "We've stripped this place clean. What we have now won't last. That means we step outside."
Claire's breath caught. Her hazel eyes lifted toward the boarded glass doors. "Out there?"
I crouched slightly so we were eye-level. "I won't lie. It's worse out there than in here. More of them. More danger. But also more supplies. More people, maybe."
Her lips pressed tight, her fingers twisting in her sleeves. "I'm scared."
"So am I," I admitted softly.
Her eyes widened. "You are?"
"I'd be insane not to be." I gave a small smile. "But fear isn't the problem. Giving into it is. We'll take it one step at a time. Together."
Her shoulders loosened, just a little. She nodded.
---
We spent the rest of the morning preparing.
Miguel tested his wrench against the wall with a sharp clang, grinning. "Still good."
Henry muttered curses as he wrapped strips of cloth around his crowbar's handle for grip. "Never thought I'd miss proper tools."
Claire polished the stake she still carried, though it was little more than splintered wood now. She glanced at me nervously. "I… don't know if this will hold up."
I rummaged through my Inventory and pulled out one of the kitchen knives, pressing it into her hand. The HUD shimmered faintly.
[Kitchen Knife equipped: Claire Thompson]
[Damage +3, +10% bleed chance.]
Her eyes widened. "Elias, I—"
"It's light. Easier to use than the stake. Don't try to be a fighter. Just defend yourself if you have to."
She swallowed, fingers closing tightly around the handle. "I'll try."
Miguel snorted. "Hell, angel, you keep us patched up, and I'll break skulls for both of us."
"Stop calling me that," she muttered, but her cheeks flushed faintly.
Henry rolled his eyes. "Christ, kids."
I rose to my feet, stretching my shoulders. "Alright. We move now."
The lobby was still dim, but the light outside was brighter, filtered through gray clouds. The city beyond waited like a corpse we hadn't touched yet.
Miguel strode to the barricaded doors, wrench slung over his shoulder. "Time to see the world, huh?"
Henry muttered, "You'll wish you hadn't."
Claire hovered at my side, gripping her knife with both hands, pale but steady.
I pushed the barricade aside, one board at a time. The nails screeched, wood cracking. Dust fell in thin streaks of light as the boards gave way.
The air beyond was colder.
Finally, only the shattered glass remained.
I took a breath, my HUD glowing faintly at the edge of my vision. HP full. SP full. MP low, but steady. The numbers meant nothing compared to the weight of the door before me.
I pushed it open.
The city lay before us.
Cars sat abandoned in the street, doors flung wide, alarms long dead. Fires smoldered in the distance, smoke rising into a sky the color of ash. Corpses littered the sidewalks, twisted, gnawed, their faces locked in silent screams.
Far off, something roared. Not human. Not close.
The world was dead.
And it was waiting for us.
Miguel let out a low whistle. "Well. Ain't she beautiful."
Henry muttered, "She's a bitch is what she is."
Claire's breath trembled, her eyes wide. "It's… it's gone. Everything's gone."
I tightened my grip on the hammer. "Not everything."
They turned to look at me.
I stepped through the door, boots crunching glass. The cold wind hit my face.
"We're still here."
---