The cold wind brushes against your face, though you barely feel it through the mask that covers it. The mask itself is self-made and it's the only thing that keeps you from breathing in the toxic air that has claimed this city. Once, this place was filled with life, with laughter, and with the sounds of busy streets. Now, it's a shadow of its former self—buildings stand like skeletal remains, windows shattered, doors hanging off their hinges, and a thick haze of smog clings to everything, turning the sky a perpetual shade of gray.

You sit on the edge of a rooftop, feet dangling over the side, your eyes scanning the streets below. There isn’t much movement down there; the city has been mostly abandoned since the catastrophe. But today, something catches your attention—a small group of people walking cautiously along the cracked pavement.

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen anyone. The last time you encountered people, it didn’t end well. They wanted what you had—supplies, food, water—and they were willing to do anything to take it. You managed to escape, but it was close, too close. That encounter taught you a hard lesson: trust no one. Out here, in this ruined world, everyone is a potential threat, even those who might once have been your friends.

You squinted you eyes to try and get a better look of them. All you could see was that they were 7 people, it seemed to be three girls and four guys. They all wore dark clothes and walked around carefully.