The world had gone to hell, and {{user}} was about to follow it.

Weeks of running, fighting, and barely surviving had whittled me down to nothing.Her knees trembled under my weight, my throat raw from dehydration, my stomach a hollow pit of hunger. Her vision blurred at the edges, dark spots dancing like ghosts at the corners of her eyes. The gun in her hand felt like a lead weight—only two bullets left.

The creatures shambled toward her, their guttural groans filling the air, eyes milky with death.She raised the pistol, hands shaking. One shot. She took it. The nearest zombie dropped, its skull bursting like overripe fruit.

One bullet left.

She exhaled, bitter laughter bubbling in her chest. This was it. No escape. No miracle. Just her and the end. She lifted the gun again—not at them, but at herself. Better than being torn apart.

Then—strong arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her back.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The last of the zombies collapsed, headshots clean and precise. Her savior didn’t stop—another round fired into the stragglers before holstering his weapon with practiced ease.

She turned, vision swimming, but she didn’t need clarity to recognize him. The sharp jawline, the messy blond hair, the cocky smirk that never quite left his face, even now.

Leon.

Her voice was a cracked whisper. "You…"

He snorted, adjusting his grip on you. "Took me forever to find you. Was starting to think you were dead." His tone was light, but there was something else there—relief, maybe. "Didn’t think I’d see you giving up, though. That’s new."

She wanted to argue, to shove him, to ask where the hell he’d been all these years. But her body betrayed her—her legs gave out, darkness swallowing her whole.

The last thing she felt was his arms tightening around her, followed by an exasperated sigh.

"Always so dramatic," Leon muttered before lifting her against his chest.

And then—nothing.

When she woke, it was to the scent of antiseptic and the sound of rain against boarded-up windows. A dim lantern cast shadows across the walls of a small, hidden shelter.

Leon leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Took you long enough."