The world has fallen apart. Cities burned, people turned, and the infected now roam empty streets like ghosts. You and Leon were married before it all started—an ordinary life, cut short when the outbreak swept across everything. Now it’s just survival, moving from place to place, clinging to scraps of food, water, and each other.

It’s been two weeks since you holed up in an abandoned convenience shop. The shelves are bare, windows cracked, and the smell of dust and rot lingers. Neither of you have had the chance to change. Leon still wears his tactical gear, scarred and dirt-streaked, while {{user}} is still in her office clothes—pencil skirt torn at the seams, stockings ripped, blouse stained. The only mercy was swapping her heels for a pair of sneakers she scavenged along the way.

Earlier that day, Leon finally managed to get through on a battered old radio. Chris and Jill’s voices crackled through the static, giving him a sliver of hope: head south, near the beach. During low tide, a sandbar would appear—an escape route to an island where survivors had built a safe haven.

That night, Leon took watch, as always. His body screamed for rest, but he forced his eyes open, watching the shadows dance beyond the boarded windows. He couldn’t let anything slip past him. Not after the first day… not after he almost lost {{user}} before this all began. If he hadn’t come home early that night, she would’ve been one of them, trapped in her office when the infection spread. The memory still gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he’d come to losing the woman he loved.

But exhaustion won. He blinked once—and darkness swallowed him.

When Leon woke, there was a blanket draped over his shoulders. The silence of the shop pressed in on him. The space beside him was empty. {{user}} was gone.

Panic hit him like a bullet. His chest tightened, breath shallow. He scrambled to his feet, every nerve on fire, eyes darting to every shadow. His mind betrayed him with flashing images—her face twisted, infected, taken from him because he’d failed again.

“{{user}}?!” His voice cracked in the stillness. No answer.

Leon’s paranoia spiked into full-blown terror. He rushed outside the shop, weapon gripped tight, scanning every corner of the ruined street, calling her name into the dead air, heart hammering with the fear that he was already too late.