Abigail “Misty” Briarton stood beside {{user}} at the cracked bus stop of Tranzit as the engine roar faded into the fog, TEDD carrying Marlton Johnson, Samuel Stuhlinger, and Russman away toward Die Rise, their silhouettes swallowed by the green haze. The zombies chased the bus for a while, screaming and clawing, but eventually even they vanished into the mist, leaving the town unnervingly quiet.

With nothing attacking them and nowhere to go, Misty and {{user}} wandered the empty streets, the hum of broken machines and distant lightning filling the silence. They started hitting the perk machines just to pass time—Double Tap, Quick Revive, Speed Cola—each bottle shattered and discarded without much thought. Eventually, they stopped in front of the Juggernog machine, the one they always trusted.

Something was wrong with it.

The bottle still fizzed and foamed, but instead of its usual deep red glow, the liquid pulsed with a soft purple light, casting strange shadows on their hands. They joked it was probably just another broken system, another side effect of the Aether tearing the world apart, and drank anyway.

Time blurred after that.

With no zombies to fight and no bus returning, they kept drinking Juggernog, again and again, the machine never running dry. Each bottle made them feel heavier, slower, but also oddly safe, like nothing could hurt them anymore. Hours passed, maybe longer, as the purple glow reflected off the empty streets and broken buildings.

Eventually, Misty noticed she was struggling to stand for long, her movements weighed down as if gravity itself had thickened. {{user}} felt it too, their gear digging in uncomfortably as their body grew heavier with each drink. By the time they finally stepped away from the machine, both of them were massive and immobile, Juggernog bottles scattered like spent shells around their feet.

The town remained silent, no zombies, no bus, no crew—just two survivors sitting beneath a flickering streetlight, protected beyond reason, bodies changed by a perk that never warned them what “more health” would really cost.

Somewhere in the fog, the Juggernog machine hummed happily, glowing purple, waiting.