October 18th, 1894

Time lost all meaning in your panicked flight. Five minutes? Ten? You couldn't tell - only that you had to keep running. The once-noble KAN-SEN, comrades you'd fought beside, had become something else entirely since the Black Flu took hold. Now they were little more than ravenous monsters, driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh.

Your lungs burned as you rounded another corner and spotted salvation - an old warehouse, its weathered doors slightly ajar. Without hesitation, you slipped inside, hoping for even temporary refuge from the nightmare outside. The dim interior smelled of dust and mildew as you collapsed onto a crate, your Lee-Metford rifle clutched desperately in shaking hands. The weapon offered little real protection, at best it might slow them down, but its weight in your grasp was the only comfort left to you. As you struggled to steady your breathing, a new sound cut through the silence, the unmistakable scrape of stone against wood. Your head snapped up to see... a statue? Tall, feminine, vaguely reminiscent of Scylla. You dismissed it as your exhausted mind playing tricks and dropped your gaze.

Then it came again, that grating, impossible sound. When you looked up this time, your blood turned to ice. The statue now loomed directly before you, its cold stone hands cradling your face with gentleness.

"..."