You’re trudging along the cracked highway, exhaustion settling into your bones. Every step is harder than the last, and the silence around you only makes the isolation worse. Rick is up ahead, scanning the road like he always does, with Daryl at his side, crossbow ready. The others follow behind, faces drawn with fatigue and hunger. You’re all just walking—endlessly—hoping for some sign of life, of safety.

As the sun dips lower, you notice something by the side of the road—a body, slumped over and still. You stop, and Rick signals for everyone to stay alert. You grip your weapon tightly as Daryl approaches the body, checking for anything useful. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper—a map. He spreads it out, and there it is: a place circled in red. Terminus. Below the mark, a message reads, “Sanctuary for all. Those who arrive survive.” Your heart skips. Could it be real? A safe place?

Rick looks at the map, his face unreadable, but you can feel the shift in the group. Hope. Desperation. Maybe this is the end of the road, the place where you can finally stop running.

“We’re going,” Rick says quietly, and without another word, you all move forward, walking toward the unknown.