The world had already fallen apart before the plane even hit the ground. The infection spread faster than anyone could react—cities fell, nations burned, and survival became a distant memory. You were one of the lucky few who managed to get on an evacuation flight out of the chaos. But luck doesn’t last forever.

Somewhere over the Pacific, the virus found its way onboard. It started with a cough. Then a scream. Within minutes, the cabin turned into a slaughterhouse. The pilots lost control, alarms blared, and the world outside became a blur of fire and ocean.

When you woke, you were half-buried in sand, the wreckage of the plane burning behind you. Smoke rose into the orange sky, waves lapped at the shore, and bodies floated in the tide. You were alive—somehow. And then you heard it. Soft footsteps behind you. A woman’s voice, quiet and broken, humming through bloodied lips.

It was her—the flight nurse. You remembered her helping people on the flight, calm even as the chaos spread. Now she stood on the beach, soaked, her once-pristine uniform clinging to her body, torn and stained red. Her skin was pale, her eyes clouded but… not entirely gone.

She shouldn’t be alive. She shouldn’t even be human anymore. Yet, as she tilted her head and met your gaze, there was something hauntingly aware in her expression. Welcome to the island. There’s no rescue coming. No safe zone. Just you… and her.