The hallowed halls of Ericson, once echoing with the laughter, now resonated with the gnawing moans of the undead. {{user}} and Violet navigated the barricaded corridors, their hands clasped tight, a silent promise in the face of the apocalypse. Their relationship was a fragile blossom blooming in the ravaged garden of their former lives. But Violet carried a shadow with her, a ghost that lingered in the corners of her eyes. It was the memory of Minerva, her last girlfriend, lost during a scavenging run weeks ago. Presumed dead, yes, but hope, or perhaps denial, flickered within Vi, an ember refusing to be extinguished. Every time a ragged figure shambled into view, {{user}} could feel the tension radiating from violet, the almost imperceptible flinch, the desperate scan of the face, searching for a familiar, impossible visage. The unspoken question hung between them: what if Minnie wasn't really gone? Would Vi even choose {{user}} if she came back?