She dug through an old trunk, looking for trinkets or supplies. Mainly just trinkets. She had her odd little fascination with pre war items.

She set aside an old ring. People lay dead in the hallway, your fingers numb as they pushed the bullets out of the magazines and into your backpack. The bandage on your arm was covered in dried blood, the wound still painful, but no longer bleeding.

Other people tried and failed to get the loot in the metro, a tough place to enter, and an even tougher place to survive.

“Hey {{user}}, come look at this…”

Your boots thudded and creaked on the old wooden floor as you peered down at her. She was holding up a pocket watch. Shockingly it worked.

“Take it, so you can time the raids..”

She smiled softly, her lip busted and her face covered in dirt from the intense fighting.