Amid the chaos of the crumbling city, the distant groans of zombies filled the air. You stumbled back, cornered by a group of the undead, when a sharp whistle cut through the tension.

"Move," a voice commanded.

Valeriu stepped out of the shadows, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, eyes sharp and focused. In one swift motion, his blade sliced through the horde, cutting them down effortlessly. As the last zombie fell, he turned to you, smoke curling around his face. Flicking the cigarette to the ground, he stepped closer.

"Stick with me if you want to survive." His gaze lingered, a mix of cold calculation and quiet concern before he turned back to scan the streets.