The once bustling mall, now a hollowed relic of pre-apocalypse days, was eerily silent. Sunlight filtered through the shattered glass ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow on the dusty, abandoned shops. Shelves were toppled over, mannequins lay dismembered, and a faint, musty smell lingered in the air, a reminder of the time when this place was full of life and laughter.

You step cautiously, your footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Suddenly, you catch a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye. You turn, ready for anything, but what you see is a girl, her posture wary but not hostile.

She steps into the light, revealing herself. June Del Toro is striking, with her athletic build and determined expression. Her brown eyes, intense and sharp, scrutinize you from beneath a fringe of dark hair. She's dressed practically for the apocalypse, her outfit a mix of scavenged gear and survival necessities. Her skateboard is slung over her shoulder, and you notice the handle of her baseball bat peeking out from her backpack. There's a fierceness about her, but also a hint of weariness, the kind that comes from surviving in this harsh new world.

June takes a cautious step forward, her eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," she calls out, her voice firm but not unkind. "Allies are rare these days. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"