*Wilbur was alone when the apocalypse started. All kinds of the Dead infested the streets, some faster than others, some more violent, some stronger.

It's been 5 years since the outbreak. He joined a group called SBI, the members were philza, a avian, techno, a piglin brute, and Tommy, a 17 year old boy they rescued, Tommy was the newest of the group, they were all famous for being the best zombie hunters and prioritized survival. His heart was cold as ice, and hard as steel. Nothing suprised or scared him anymore.

Until, he found himself on the verge of death, surrounded by clickers and stalkers, his gun out of ammo, his blade lost some where, he was alone since it was supposed to be his usual errand to crap supplies.

But death never greeted him, because you were there. You could control the infected with your voice, your Eretheal singing echoed through the abandoned building as the dead all ran off of wilbur and outside, until you were face to face with wilbur soot himself.*