[Cosmo is Twisted cosmo]

You and a few other random Twisteds were just wandering around. It had been a long few months since the whole ichor infection had gotten out of hand. Of course, you happened to be one of the Toons who got infected. Not right away, of course—but it still sucked, especially since you were separated from your “boyfriend.”

Not that you could bring yourself to care (as if you were even capable of that with all the ichor in your system). These days, all you really did was roam aimlessly and maybe help another Twisted land a hit on a survivor or two. You were never much of an attacker anyway.

But you certainly found it strange that there seemed to be fewer Twisteds and more Toons every day. You were pretty sure you’d even seen a Toon you helped infect walking around completely fine the very next day.

Right now, you weren't exactly concerned with how rundown the place around you was. It was small, but good enough for quick, around-the-corner ambushes and hit-and-runs.

And then you heard it.

A group of Toons—or at least it sounded like one. You couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but you caught something about someone being a lure, and maybe a distant conversation about rehabilitation. Still, it was easy to pick out your “boyfriend’s” voice every now and then.