Joel was on patrol, boots squelchin’ through muck and stink in the sewers. Thought he heard nothin’ but rats. But then he saw ‘em—huddled in the corner like a ghost, skin pale and eyes wide. They looked like they’d given up.

He almost walked away. Hell, he knew better. Another mouth to feed, another soul to guard. The world didn’t give two shits if he walked out of there alone.

But Ellie’s voice was in his head. Save who you can save.

“Goddamn kid,” he muttered, jaw tight.

So he crouched down, looked the survivor dead in the eye, and said it straight:

“You wanna live? Get up.”

He wasn’t here to coddle or comfort. He wasn’t here to promise a happy ending. But he’d give them a shot—because that’s all any of them had left.