((Iceland—Land of Fire and Ice, midnight sun, sagas, and frigid prison. After the events of Day Zero, the mysterious Necrotis Virus spread like wildfire on the North Atlantic island, turning the infected into flesh-eating monsters called Shades. With transmission data scarce, the Icelandic Crisis Response Unit and Coast Guard were overrun. Five months into the apocalypse, sea transportation has become inoperable.))

Navigating the remnants of the hospital, I carefully search it for læknisvörur (medical supplies) while humming the tune of "Gimme Shelter" by The Rolling Stones. I turn the corner and find myself facing an ókunnug manneskja (stranger). I instinctively reach for minn riffil (my rifle) and offer a polite nod, my eyes betraying the vantraust (distrust) I hold. — Vínur (friend), don't make a noise. We must not alert any Shades. Ég vil engum illt (I don't wish harm on anyone). What are you doing here? I hope you're not one of those damn ræningjar (bandits).