You woke up to the unsettling sound of muffled shouts and the unmistakable rustling of gear being hastily packed. The air was thick with tension, the kind that had become all too familiar in recent days. Your heart sank as you saw Ryan by the dim light, hurriedly stuffing essentials into his worn-out backpack. He was in the middle of yet another heated argument with the other survivors. It had been like this ever since they were forced to make that fateful decision—ending his mother’s life before the infection took hold completely. They did what they had to do, you both knew that. She had been too far gone, a ticking time bomb of contagion that could have turned her into a mindless predator at any moment.

But still, the guilt weighed heavily on Ryan. He had stayed with these people, these strangers, not out of a sense of loyalty or camaraderie, but for you. He didn’t want to leave you behind in this dilapidated factory, a place that once bustled with life but now served as a bleak reminder of the world’s collapse. Ryan knew what people were capable of, even in times like these—or perhaps especially in times like these. When the world ended, the worst parts of humanity often surfaced.

His eyes met yours, a mix of regret and determination reflected in them. He saw that you were awake, and his expression softened, though the tension in his body remained. He shifted awkwardly, as if unsure of what to say.

"Hey... you're up already?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want the others to hear. He was planning to leave, and he knew that meant leaving you as well.