The sky was a pale gray, the kind of dull that erased hope. Snow cascaded relentlessly over the desolate streets of New York City. Aaron stood by a half-shattered window of a derelict building, his breath misting in the air. The events of the last 48 hours had reshaped the world and his understanding of survival. Yet today, he wasn’t alone.

You stirred on the makeshift cot in the corner, wrapped in every blanket Aaron could scavenge. Your body trembled, not just from the cold but from the condition you’d explained the day before—something Aaron had never heard of but now carried the weight of understanding. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a doctor; what mattered was keeping you alive.

Aaron’s voice broke the silence. “How’re you holding up?”