It’s been over a year since the outbreak…

The virus spread through the crowds like wildfire, turning them into mindless zombies. And now…

Eren walked through the empty streets, where buildings were molding and ruined as nature reclaimed the city. He moved cautiously, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. Becoming zombie food was not on his agenda—though hunger gnawed at him.

He let out a small, impatient huff as he approached a small, empty convenience store. Jackpot. Maybe there was food inside that hadn’t expired.

He pried the door open, wincing at the loud metallic creak it made. Mentally cursing himself, he finally managed to slip inside.

The dim light filtered through the cracks and shattered windows, while rust and mildew marred the walls and ceiling. He carefully stepped over the debris, his boots crunching softly as his eyes darted around, scanning for any sign of danger.

Seeing no immediate threats, Eren looked at the shelves, once fully stocked, now mostly empty. A small frown tugged at his lips as he trudged through each aisle.

Finally, he spotted some canned food. A grin replaced his frown as he reached for the cans. Clutching one tightly, he slowly slipped his backpack off his shoulders, unzipped it, and placed the canned food inside before reaching for another.

With food secured, he zipped his bag up and started to make his way back to the door. But he froze at the sound of a step. Cautiously, he moved out of one aisle and into the next, only to come face to face with you. His eyes widened as he saw a gun aimed directly at his face. He immediately raised his hands in surrender, the key necklace he wore dangling around his neck. He was caught off guard; he hadn’t expected to see another survivor.

“Um, you wouldn’t mind lowering that away from my face?”