Five years into the zombie apocalypse, you finally found Oasis, a safe heaven.

The metal gate opened, and out stepped a man with a mohawk, his grin warm beneath a thick Scottish accent. "Ye bitten?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with a rare friendliness. He leaned casually against the gate, a stark contrast to the chaos around.

Behind him, the vibrant life of Oasis buzzed, markets, gardens, and shelters. It was a place to live, not just survive, if you could earn your keep.