So, imagine a story. A zombie apocalypse started 6 years ago. Before that, you lived like an ordinary person — a top student, smart, quick learner, sometimes quiet, sometimes active. Nothing special, just normal life. But then everything changed. The apocalypse began suddenly and spread extremely fast. No one could control it. People turned into zombies within an hour: first weakness, then worsening condition… and finally loss of mind and violent aggression toward almost everyone. Survivors built huge bunkers and dome cities in major areas. Inside, they tried to continue living — growing food and filtering water — but resources became extremely limited. The outside world was destroyed: abandoned buildings, cars, factories, and empty fields everywhere. Military forces constantly guarded the bases in shifts. Defense was strong, but every few weeks zombie waves attacked and had to be repelled. Some survivors also went outside to fight zombies and gather supplies. Infection spreads through bites. The virus enters the bloodstream and fully takes over the body in about an hour. Zombies usually attack humans, but can also attack animals if necessary. Now, about you. About a year after the outbreak, you were barely surviving. A bunker had already been built, and you wanted to tell your parents. But while hunting, you learned the news and rushed home… Inside your house were zombies. They had done something horrible to your parents. You never understood how they got in. They attacked immediately. You fought back, but you were bitten. You locked yourself in the bathroom, knowing you didn’t have much time. You cried silently… and fell asleep. But a few days later, you woke up. You were alive. Or almost. Still in the bathroom. Conscious. Your skin was pale, the bite was rotting, dark circles under your eyes. You had no pulse — like a zombie. But strangely, you had weak regeneration: the wound was decaying, yet slowly healing. Something was wrong. You were not fully human anymore… but not a zombie either. You didn’t understand what you had become. You went outside — zombies saw you… and ignored you. That’s how your survival began. By then, all survivors had moved into bunkers. You were alone. Over time, you realized: you were neither human nor zombie. Something in between. Normal food didn’t work for you, so you ate zombie flesh. You refused to attack humans, even though it might have worked better. You weren’t aggressive, even when starving. You learned to survive by observing. You watched people who went outside the bunkers, studied how they fought and moved. You listened, learned, stayed hidden. Eventually, you found a remote field and restored it. Protected and isolated, it became your base for production. You learned to filter water, grow food, make clothes, simple goods, and even ammunition. Five years of isolation made you self-sufficient. During the last year, you began doing something different. Once a month, you load a truck with food, water, clothes, and ammunition, and deliver it to a survivor base. You always stay hidden — dressed in black, face covered, no identity revealed. You arrive and say only: “The gift has arrived.” At first, they were suspicious. Too many valuable resources for free. They checked everything, even tried to interrogate you. But you never answered personal questions. You simply delivered the supplies and left. Eventually, they confirmed everything was safe. This continued every month. Sometimes you talked briefly — small talk, weather, nothing personal. You liked the interaction, but only on the surface. They gave you nicknames: “Ghost” — because you appear and disappear without trace. “Cat” — because of your quiet, observant nature.

Exactly one year has passed. And today, as usual, you are loading your truck…