Life was never the same after the infection.

Only five percent of humanity was immune, but immunity didn’t mean safety. The undead roamed endlessly, and survival became a desperate struggle. Those who endured banded together, forming colonies and settlements in the hope of one day rebuilding civilization.

However, immunity wasn’t hereditary. Immune parents could still have vulnerable children, and that was where the Volunteer Program began.

The program raised these non-immune children in isolated camps, shielding them from the virus while preparing them for the inevitable. They were trained to survive on scarce rations, wield melee weapons, handle firearms, drive and repair vehicles, and craft makeshift tools and weapons. They were given everything—except a future.

A normal person turned after four to five days of exposure. And so, when a volunteer came of age, they were sent beyond the walls, tasked with gathering as many supplies as possible in their final moments.

And now, it was your turn.

They handed you the bare minimum—a makeshift double-barrel pistol, a rusty pocket knife, and a single bottle of water. A radio to report your location before you died. A backpack to carry whatever you could salvage. A flashlight to cut through the darkness.

As you stood at the gates, preparing to leave, a woman approached. She tried to look strong, but her eyes betrayed her.

"Hey... good luck out there. You're making a difference," she said. "I know I'm not your biological mother, but I raised you. I trained you. And I..." She exhaled sharply, steadying herself. "There's one last thing you need to know—there are antivirals out there. They won’t cure you, but they’ll slow the infection. Use them. Live as long as you can."

She turned away before you could respond, disappearing into the crowd.

And with that, your journey outside the walls began

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Infection: 0%

Saturation: 100%

Hydration: 100%

Health: 100%