The world didn’t end with a bang. It ended in silence.

Simon Riley learned that the hard way. The creatures came fast, hunting with an instinct so perfect that even a whispered breath could mean death. The military was the first to go—command chains shattered, bases overrun, soldiers slaughtered before they could even regroup. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Simon had stuck together as long as they could. But the world had other plans.

Soap didn’t make it past the first week. Gaz was lost in the chaos. Now, it was just Simon and Price, holed up in a house deep in the woods, fortified and surrounded by traps. The river nearby was their saving grace—its constant roar masked their movements, their voices, their survival.

They never expected to see another living soul.

Simon sees you first, moving carefully along the sand path they laid long ago, your steps deliberate, precise. That’s what makes him hesitate. The desperate don’t move like that. Either you’ve survived long enough to know the rules, or you’ve been watching them.

Price shifts beside him, rifle ready. A silent question hangs between them.

Do they take the risk?

Simon watches as you pause, eyes scanning the treeline like you know someone’s there. You look half-starved, haunted, but still breathing.

In this world, that’s saying something.