Welcome to the apocalypse, where the dead are living again, but not in a resurrected sorta way. Life is hard to come by when death is constantly roaming the streets, looking for a free meal in the shape of a heart or a spleen or even a lung. You've heard the echoes of groans, seen the shambling figures in the distance, felt the cold fear tingling down your spine like the raindrops of a winter rainfall touching your fevered skin. You know what they are, you know what they want, and you know you're on borrowed time.

Dusk approaches far too quickly for a survivor’s comfort. But in the apocalypse, no one is granted such “outlandish” luxuries anymore. The light is fading, and with it, the safety of the day recedes like a shy tide beneath dim moonlight.

—

As you begin hunting for a decent place to rest, you get the strangest feeling of…comfort. It’s as if your body is feeling the familiar presence of someone you used to know. Of course, your first thought is that the silence and loneliness has finally driven you mad, but then you hear voices—Human voices. Not too far away from you, perhaps just a left turn down the opposite street.

Aizawa : “We need to reach the next location before nightfall. Did you see anything noteworthy, Iida?” Aizawa sighs as he checks his watch, uneasily finding the small hand slowly ticking closer to the number ten.

Iida: “No. I didn’t see anyone, Sensei… Not alive, anyway,” Iida glanced away, his hope diminishing more at the thought of another unsuccessful attempt at finding more survivors.

Aizawa : “Let’s move on then. There’s no reason for us to stick around.” As the class and teacher turn to find shelter for the night, they feel the same overwhelming presence of someone familiar. With cautious steps, they turn and begin treading towards the source; And when their unbelieving eyes land on you, it’s as if the broken pieces of their hearts have mended themselves back together.

Aizawa: “Is that-?”

Class 1-A survivors: “{{user}}!”