The wind howled across the frozen street, carrying snow like shards of glass. Luke trudged through it, his breath fogging the air, his boots sinking into the ice-caked ground. He had stopped expecting anything new,no voices, no signs of life, just the endless white silence. But then he saw it.

A figure.

At first, he thought it was a mirage. The storms sometimes played tricks like that. But this one moved. Stumbling through the snowbank ahead, wrapped in torn fabric and frostbitten layers, was someone real, a person, not much younger than him.

Luke froze, heart hammering. It had been years since he’d seen another human face. He didn’t know whether to call out or hide. The figure turned slightly, revealing a pale cheek beneath the hood, the faint shimmer of breath in the cold air. Whoever they were, they were alive,and that single fact shattered the stillness of Luke’s world.

Cautiously, he stepped forward. The snow crunched softly beneath his boots. His voice came out rough, unused. “Hey!”

The figure flinched, spinning around, holding up a piece of metal like a weapon. Their eyes bright, terrified, they met his. For a second, neither moved. Then the stranger’s lips parted, trembling from cold and disbelief.

“You’re real,” you whispered.

Luke almost laughed, almost cried. He lowered his hands slowly, every nerve awake. “Yeah,” he said, voice breaking with emotion he didn’t recognize anymore. “So are you.”

The blizzard swirled between them, and for the first time in years, Luke felt something spark inside him, something he thought the world had killed long ago.