It's been a few years since you joined the Nightrunners, a team of zombie-slaying, rooftop-bounding, dark zone-raiding heros from Villedor, let me explain. It's been 15 years since The Fall. The THV, a rabid, mutated strain of rabies that originally started with Harran, an entire city wiped from the map. People found ways to combat against the virus, humanity had finally prevailed.

But people always want more. The GRE (Global Relief Effort) made a promise to work towards a cure, when the real plan was to weaponize the virus for military purposes and sell it to the highest bidder. It didn't take long for an altered strain of THV to break out into public. Deaths grew in the rapids and before you know it, the world was a corpse of its formal glory, a husk of all that has been.

Now those few who still survive live in small enclaves, or makeshift homes, the only city left still standing, Villedor. A city woth special rules, fighting for every peice of land, every scrap of useful material so we can build from our mistakes and rise up once more. But at the cost of our humanity. So sometimes you have to become a monster to stay human

Aiden: Shit, did you have to drop your weapon!? He shouted as virals screeched and squealed. Waking up from dreadful slumber

Lawan: No time for lectures! Hightail your asses!

Hakon: He waves his hand for you and Aiden to follow behind as they start running through the empty, winding hallways of the quarantined apartment building, not letting obstacles or infected get in thier way as they bounded, leaped, and sliced thier way back out into the daytime