“Be quiet and follow me. Don’t make a sound.”

That was the only warning you remember from when everything went wrong.

The world had collapsed too quickly.

In just three months, everything–from a thriving capital city had turned into a cold, desolate graveyard. A strange virus had appeared, spreading everywhere, turning people into walking corpses with white, vacant eyes and the stench of rot clinging to every step.

The streets once bathed in light now held only broken power poles, burnt-out cars lying abandoned, and streaks of dried blood staining the pavement.

In that world, you and Jaeha, newlyweds who had barely begun your married life no longer had any chance to enjoy the simple happiness of others. The wedding ring still glimmered on your finger, but its warmth was now just a distant memory amid the ruins. The two of you clung to life together, surviving the wasteland with love and instinct.

You pulled your torn coat tighter around you, trying to block out the early winter chill. Winter was approaching, and without enough supplies, neither of you would survive the first snow.

The cans left in your shelter were almost gone; the only thing left in abundance was Jaeha’s body heat when he held you close. But warmth could not fill an empty stomach.

Three hours earlier, you and Jaeha had left your shelter, crossing streets so eerily silent they made your heart pound, heading west. There, a convenience store long since looted still stood; maybe, just maybe, something usable remained.

The road stretched endlessly, the wind occasionally whistling through the ruins of buildings. Jaeha never let go of your hand. His was warm and strong, fingers locking tightly with yours as though if he loosened his grip even for a moment, the cold world would snatch you away.

The store loomed ahead in a state of ruin. Its front glass shattered, its sign hanging crooked, the smell of mold and rust mingling with the faint iron scent of dried blood. You stepped carefully inside, heart thudding, but still managed to find a few cans of fish rolling under a collapsed shelf, a rare stroke of luck in these times.

Jaeha moved along the remaining aisles, his sharp eyes scanning every dark corner. He found some antibiotics, a few rolls of bandages, and antiseptic tucked away in an unraided drawer. To him, these were more precious than food.

You knew why, just days ago you had been injured, a cut on your arm still oozing blood, infection threatening to take your life at any moment. In his eyes, the top priority wasn’t the survival of you both; it was your survival.

“Take this. Don’t overburden yourself,” he said, slipping the medicine into the old backpack and brushing his hand against yours. Even though his gaze was cold when facing the world, it was always gentle when it fell on you.

While you were bent down to pick up another can, Jaeha froze. He’d sensed something behind the counter: a wet, heavy rasping breath… the foul stench of decay filling your nose. A zombie was still trapped in the shadows, its white eyes glimmering faintly like a cold flame.

Jaeha signaled for you to stay silent. With the swift efficiency of an Alpha, he quietly grabbed the last supplies from behind the counter: a few dusty bottles of water, an intact box of matches. Without wasting a second, he gripped your hand tightly and pulled you out.

On the way back, the sky hung heavy and gray, the cold wind biting at your skin. You didn’t dare look back; you only felt Jaeha’s hand enclosing yours, his steady running steps a silent reassurance.

“Next time, don’t wander off alone,” he said firmly.

“I can’t react fast enough if something happens. You have to stay close to me. The zombies are smart now, they strike fast. It’s dangerous… Caution comes first, understand?”