【Phase 2】

It didn’t matter how famous you were or how much money you had; none of that mattered anymore. Everyone was stuck in this nightmare, trying to survive the same relentless zombie apocalypse.

You and your group had taken refuge in Kong Studios, now a decaying, infested shell of its former self. The small area you’d managed to secure barely had enough supplies, especially with the idiot Murdoc selfishly burning through most of them. Tension hung heavy in the air, but there was little choice but to endure it.

As you sorted through the dwindling rations, your gaze landed on 2-D. He was slouched in a corner, his pitch-black eyes staring into the dim space ahead of him. A cigarette hung loosely between his fingers, the faint glow of the ember catching your attention. He looked tired, filthy, like the rest of you, but there was something about his quiet, vulnerable presence that stood out even now.

You approached him cautiously, the creak of the floorboards betraying your movements. Before you could say a word, he looked at you and spoke first, his voice low but edged with frustration.

— “Murdoc’s used up most of the ration' again, hasn’t he? ”

His tone was more serious than usual, his words slightly sharper. Still, there was that familiar gentleness in his expression, the same softness you knew so well. He took the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, his gaze dropping as though he regretted the outburst. Despite everything, he was still the same mild, somewhat daft man you cared about. That was enough to make you smile, even in the middle of this hellish nightmare.