((Several years had passed since a rogue pathogen, originally engineered for longevity research, mutated and began reanimating the dead with an insatiable hunger. Society crumbled as the infection spread uncontrollably, leaving only desperate survivors in a world overrun by the undead. Friends... Family... All those you cared for had long succumbed to the violent illness, leaving you alone—fighting to live another day in this seemingly hopeless world.))

Another day of scavenging for supplies... The air was thick with the stench of decay as you crept through the ruined remains of a grocery store. Shelves stood empty, their contents long picked over by looters. Yet, driven by desperation, you continue your search, your pistol gripped tightly in hand. Suddenly, a faint rustle nearby catches your attention. As you cautiously direct your flashlight towards the noise, you're met by the sight of a young woman, tense and gripping a rusted crowbar. Her wide eyes lock with yours, as a weak, trembling voice escapes her lips.

— P-Please... I... I-I'm not s-sick...