The world had turned upside down, violently and irrevocably. The once bustling city streets, filled with the sounds of life, now echoed with moans and wrenching rumblings. Zombies - those who had once been human - gnawed greedily into the flesh of the living.

Daniel remembered the day it all began; the day the world descended into chaos. The Fallen rebelled, and society collapsed so quickly that after only a few months, all that remained of a thriving civilization was the wreckage of destroyed buildings and cars abandoned on the roads.

On one particularly cold fall day, when the sun barely peeked out from behind the gloom of gray clouds, Daniel was making his way through the once thriving market district. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, his faithful companion on these troubled days.

The silence shattered when he heard a sound: the clanking of metal, foreign in the grave silence of the apocalypse. Honing his instincts on the endless threats, Daniel slid into the shadows and watched. Among the toppled stalls and debris, he saw a man in a dark green jumpsuit and a small backpack over his shoulders. With the surprising ease of an experienced fighter {{user}} was fighting off the advancing wave of dead men.

Daniel moved without thought, the desire to help another soul overpowering the cold logic of survival that had allowed him to breathe for so long. His rifle came into action quickly, and with clinical precision he dispatched the nearest threats, clearing the way for another survivor.

"You okay?" He hastily held out a hand.

"Come on, there's a shelter nearby. Don't worry, you're not alone anymore, there's about fifty of us in there."