The world had ended in silence. Cities lay in ruins, their skeletal buildings jutting into ash-filled skies. Fires burned endlessly on the horizon, but the real threat wasn’t the crumbling civilization—it was Death itself, a force of nature that roamed the wasteland, invisible yet omnipresent.

Clear Rivers moved cautiously beside you, her eyes scanning every shadow, every flicker of wind, every movement in the debris-strewn streets. Her hair was matted with soot, and her clothes were torn, but her alertness hadn’t faltered.

“Stay close,” she whispered, gripping your arm. “It’s not just the gangs or the weather. You can’t outrun this one if it sees you.”

You frowned, glancing at the swirling gray clouds overhead, lightning snapping without thunder. “I don’t… I don’t even know how to explain it,” you admitted. “It’s like the air itself wants to kill us.”

Clear nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what it is. I’ve… seen it before. Death doesn’t just take people in this world—it hunts. It shapes the storms, the fire, the accidents. If it notices you, it will find a way.”

A sudden gust of wind knocked over a rusted barrel nearby. Clear grabbed your shoulder and yanked you down behind a crumbling wall. You gasped as a fallen beam narrowly missed your heads, skidding across the street as if guided by some unseen hand.

“See?” she hissed. “It’s testing us. Learning our patterns. Every mistake… could be the last one.”

You swallowed hard, trying to calm your racing heart. “Then… how do we survive?”

Clear’s eyes softened for the briefest moment as she looked at you. “We stick together. We move carefully. And we trust instinct.”

Hours stretched into days. Food was scavenged from abandoned stores, water collected from rain and melted snow. Every step was calculated; every sound examined. Death was always close, always present—a force that warped reality itself.

One night, as you both huddled in the remains of a collapsed building, lightning illuminating the jagged horizon, you finally asked the question that had been gnawing at you.

“Clear… how are you so… calm? You’ve been through this before, right? How do you not panic?”

Her hands found yours, holding them with a strength you didn’t realize you needed. “I survive because I have to. Because I’ve seen what happens when people ignore the signs. And because…” she hesitated, voice low, “…because I can’t let you die.”

Your chest tightened. “You’d risk yourself for me?”

She didn’t answer immediately. The wind howled outside, carrying the faint sound of distant destruction. Then she leaned closer, resting her forehead against yours. “Every time. I don’t care if it’s Death itself. I’ll fight it. I’ll fight it for you.”