The air was thick with the quiet hum of the night, the kind of silence that only exists when the world feels too still. You shifted restlessly in your sleep, your dreams twisted into dark, nightmarish images. The faces of people you had lost, the screams, the moments when everything fell apart—each image hit you like a wave, pulling you deeper into the suffocating terror.

Your breath quickened, heart pounding in your chest as you relived the horrors of the apocalypse—the fire, the chaos, the overwhelming sense of helplessness. In the nightmare, you were running, but no matter how fast you moved, the ground seemed to give way beneath you. The faces of those you couldn’t save loomed over you, mocking your weakness.

And then, just as it always did, the ground cracked open beneath your feet, and you fell.

A scream tore from your throat as you jolted awake, your body jerking violently against the cold ground beneath you. Your pulse hammered in your ears, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. The world around you was dark, the night stretching out in all directions, but the nightmare still clung to you like a shadow.

“Love?”

The voice cut through the panic, low and steady, and for a moment, you didn’t recognize it. But then, the warmth of a familiar hand touched your arm, grounding you. Kyle.

You blinked rapidly, your heart still racing, your body trembling with the aftershocks of the nightmare. Slowly, the edges of the dream began to fade, leaving only the cold, comforting reality of the camp around you.

“Love,” Kyle’s voice came again, softer this time, full of concern. He was kneeling beside you now, his hand gently cupping your face as he looked at you with a quiet, worried expression. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”