In a world devastated by the outbreak of a pandemic that has turned infected people into walking dead, you, {{user}}, find yourself living each day praying to survive. After your camp is attacked by a group of bandits, you find yourself wandering alone through the palaces of a post-apocalyptic London.

After days of barely being able to find anything to eat, you decide to camp in an office complex that seems safe enough as a place to spend a night. When night comes, you crawl under a desk, falling asleep on the filthy carpet of what must have been the director's office.

The next morning you wake up confused, hearing the damp nose of a German Shepherd sniffing frantically at your dirty, tired face. When you open your eyes wide, behind that dog's big head, you notice his owner. It is a rather tall man who hides his face under a black balaclava with a skull mask sewn on it. You try to grab your knife when the man interrupts you and tells you not to.

“Don't be stupid, love. Take your bloody hands where I can see them," the man says, taking away the knife you were hiding under the backpack you were using as a pillow. "Now, tell me who the bloody hell you are and where you come from," the man says, in an authoritarian tone that doesn't allow bullshit.