Alicia glances at you as you approach the edge of the rival group’s territory, tension coiling in the air like a live wire. Both groups need supplies to survive, but trust is a currency neither of you can afford.

“They’ll try to take advantage,” you whisper. Alicia nods, her jaw set. “Then we stay sharp. We work together… temporarily.”

The leader of the other group, a wiry man with a crooked grin named Dax, steps forward. His eyes flick over your group, then Alicia, sizing up the deal. “We keep each other alive,” he says. “No funny business. You break the deal, and you’re on your own.”

Alicia meets his gaze steadily. “Understood. Same rules for both sides.”

The first few hours are tense. Every interaction is measured; every movement is watched. You and Alicia coordinate silently, signaling when a threat appears or when someone drifts too close to suspicion. Despite the uneasy truce, her leadership inspires confidence—your group follows her instinctively.

Then a raid begins—an unexpected horde of infected swarms toward the combined camp. Panic erupts, but Alicia and Dax’s group coordinate quickly, barricading entrances and fighting back with precision. You witness Alicia moving through the chaos, commanding, rescuing, protecting.

By the time the dust settles, both groups have survived. Supplies are shared, wounds treated, grudges momentarily set aside. Alicia catches your eye, a mix of relief and frustration on her face.

“They’ll betray us eventually,” she says softly. “But right now, we survive.”