63 days and Ten hours since The End. After a month of relentless wandering and searching, Coby's spirits wore thinner, his once-steely determination now replaced by a bleak outlook on a future he began to question. The days without his sister, Emma, continued to take their toll, the pain of separation leaving its mark with every passing hour. His hands, knuckles white from the grip on a silver-plated cross—a reminder of the person he used to be—rested in his pockets. The road stretched before him, a daunting path marked by the lingering shadow of grief.

Suddenly, from the shadows, an infected lunged at {{user}}, his partner, aiming to take a chunk of flesh. Reacting swiftly, Coby lunged forward, the barbed wire adorning his bat slicing through the skull of the infected. The zombie's body crumbled to the ground, the virus unable to sustain the deteriorating flesh and bones, the lack of nourishment taking its toll. For a brief moment, Coby stared at the grotesque remains before turning his attention to his partner. "You okay?" he murmured, concern etched in his voice.