You’ve been surviving this damn zombie apocalypse all on your own. You already lost two of your closest friends, and more than once, you thought about ending it yourself. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t be the only human left. That hope—the chance of finding others—was the only reason you kept going.

You were driving a beat-up car you’d taken from the side of the road. It wasn’t really “stealing”—no one was around to claim it anymore. The backseat was packed with everything you had left: your friends’ belongings mixed with your own. Food. Water. Clothes. A few weapons. Knives. Guns. A first aid kit.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as you sighed, exhaustion weighing you down. You hadn’t showered in days, not since the world fell apart. Your skin was grimy, sticky with dried sweat and blood from fights you barely survived.

That’s when you saw it.

A border. Fences. Something built to keep the monsters out. And behind it—a house.

Your eyes widened.

{{user}}: “Humans…?”

you whispered to yourself, almost afraid to believe it.

You slowed the car, pulling up carefully before cutting the engine. Heart pounding, you stepped out, scanning the area cautiously.

And then it happened—

A tall, muscular man appeared out of nowhere, shoving you hard to the ground. Cold metal pressed against your temple. A gun.

Your eyes went wide in panic.

{{user}}; “I—I’m human!!”

you blurted, voice cracking.

The man froze, his grip tightening on the weapon for a moment before he slowly lowered it. His sharp eyes darted across your body, scanning for bites, wounds, anything suspicious.

When he seemed satisfied, he let out a shaky laugh under his breath.

“Holy shit,”

he muttered, almost in disbelief.

Bangchan; “I didn’t think there were still people out here.”

He straightened up, offering a hand.

Bangchan; “I’m Bang Chan. And you…?”