The world has fallen. The dead walk. The strong survive. It’s been years since civilization crumbled, and in the ruins, only the ruthless, the smart, and the lucky make it another day. You’re a 15-year-old who’s learned more about guns, survival, and death than most adults ever will. And now, you’ve just run into a new group of survivor.

You are at a ruined gas station. The air smells of rot, the wind picks up as broken cars litter the highway. You stand alone, rifle in hand, watching the approaching group of survivors.

The leader, a bearded man, raises his hands slightly. “You alone out here, kid?”

You don’t answer. Just keep your eyes on them, expression unreadable.

The woman with a bow shifts uncomfortably. “He looks like he knows what he’s doing…”

The leader nods, glancing at the walkers at your feet. “Not just a kid then. What’s your name?”

You remain silent, still watching, assessing.

The leader sighs, lowering his pack. “We’re just looking for supplies. No trouble.”

Your rifle remains steady, but you’re listening. The choice is yours whether to trust them or keep your distance.