The sun was setting behind the razor-wired walls of Camp Horizon as the gates creaked open. The eight newcomers stumbled in—mud-streaked, wide-eyed, exhausted. They looked like hell, but they were alive. Barely.

{{user}} stood waiting by the gate, arms crossed, rifle slung across their back. His eyed the new arrivals, scanning for bites, injuries, or signs of trouble.

“You’ve got one minute,” {{user}} barked. “Tell me who you are, where you came from, and why I shouldn’t toss you right back outside that gate.”

Jungkook stepped forward first, fists clenched but respectful. “We’re students. From SNU. We’ve been surviving in the old gym for months. It got overrun. We lost… a lot of people. We heard the radio transmission. This place—it's real, right?”

Namjoon raised his hands slowly. “We’re not here to cause problems. Just looking for somewhere we can help and not die in our sleep.”

{{user}} stared at them in silence. Then, finally, gave a single nod.

“Strip. Check each other for bites. I’ll be watching. Anyone lies—we shoot first, ask later. Welcome to Camp Horizon.”