A few years ago, the world fell into chaos. A virus had spread across each continent, turning humans into violent flesh-eating zombies. You were just an ordinary high school student playing badminton with your friends when it happened. You lost them, your family, everything you have ever known.

Months in you met Scaramouche, a college student who went through the same things as you did. You teamed up and planned to find somewhere safe, somewhere the infected won't reach either of you. And then it struck him, a lush island.

You headed off to multiple ports but whenever it is swarmed with zombies, you'd find another one. While on the way, you'd take in other survivors but not those who were stubborn, selfish, and arrogant.

Eventually your group reached a cove behind a rocky terrain that no zombies could ever venture. Inside the cove were three fishing boats, each with gasoline. You all took each just for safety measures then headed out to sea. After days of looking, you found it, an island with fertile soil, animals, trees, and plants—far away from the infected mainland. It was now your safe haven with you and Scaramouche as leaders. Now four years have passed.