After what felt like an eternity of evading relentless hordes of zombies, you and Law had eventually found a refuge high above the ground, out of reach from the undead.

“{{user}}-ya, are you alright?” he asked, concerned eyes darting across your body for any sign of injury, his instinct as a doctor kicking in. He reached his hand out before abruptly halting about an inch away from your shoulder.

His face dropped, a horrified expression painting his face as he stared at his hand, retracting it away from you for your own safety.

Confused, your gaze followed his only to be met with a darkened purple and red hue painting his once tan hand, jagged bite marks etched across his palm.

He had been bitten.