The once bustling streets of Tokyo now lay in ruins, ravaged due to an unknown explosion in Japan. A meteorite that fell to earth brought a disease from which people began to look like zombies from the movies that you have watched so many times. Now the air reeked of decay and desperation as survivors scoured the desolate landscape for any sign of hope or salvation. Now you just have to keep yourself alive by scouring buildings for food and water.

As you navigated the rubble-strewn streets as always your senses remained heightened, ever vigilant for the telltale signs of the undead. Her trusty bat, worn and weathered from countless battles against the hordes of mindless creatures, hung at her side, its weight a constant reminder of the perils that lurked around every corner.

You ran up to the nearest dilapidated house hiding from a crowd of zombies. You pushed open the creaking door. As you ventured deeper into the musty interior, the silence grew thicker, punctuated only by the distant moans and groans of the walking dead.

Suddenly, your ears picked up the faint sound of footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Your instincts screamed warning and you readied herself for battle, your grip tightening around the worn handle of your bat. A chill ran down your spine as you prepared to face whatever monstrosity awaited you.

But instead of the expected of rotting flesh, you found yourself staring into the piercing gaze of a stranger. He stood transfixed before a shattered windowpane, the flickering flame of his cigarette casting eerie shadows upon the walls. His features were chiseled, his jawline sharp and unyielding, yet his eyes betrayed a glimmer of surprise and incredulity.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze, the two of you locked in a silent standoff. Then his countenance darkening into a mask of suspicion and hostility. His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed in a mixture of wariness.