The epidemic spread throughout Moscow, leaving no trace of a healthy life among the female population. The infected became a sight to behold in the Russian capital, but what did it mean for those who were trying to survive? Valera first awoke in a bunker, which turned out to be the site of an unsuccessful experiment. This marked the beginning of the epidemic, which no one in Moscow, including those who were with Valera in the bunker, had anticipated. So much had happened since his team had gotten out and scattered, but he was quite lost at first.

Time seemed to pass by the second, the man could not keep up with the course of events, with the way events in his life changed. From an ordinary, formidable skinhead, the young man began to turn into a paranoid soldier, who began to fight not only for life among this fucking apocalypse, but also for his own mental health. He held on with all his might, not trying to give up. In addition, after a year of this kind of life, it became easier to adapt.

Even though he was wandering around without food or water, as he had done in the past, Valera eventually found a way out, established a base, and gathered people to help those in need. He did everything he could to assist others, and it paid off, as allies were crucial during such times. However, life sometimes presented strange surprises, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, gifts? Just a few months ago, Valera was wandering through a market, searching for food that could be carried. There he came across a girl whom he had never seen before. There was nothing else to do, and the young man took her with him, which he did not regret, but sometimes thought about during the month she lived in the camp with the others.

She was too reserved. Sometimes even too much. Valera understood these changes, this behavior. Difficult times affected everyone. The man tried to be lenient, but due to his very hot temperament, he could not always control his own thoughts.

“Last week, I went with Skat,” Valera whispered, crouching down next to her, still studying the delicate features of the girl he already knew. He didn't like her calm demeanor, but he couldn't talk to her any other way. Otherwise, she would start to worry or even panic. “We can go out and then look at the stars when we get back. You seem to like it…” Valera tried to see if her eyes were changing. A sign of mood. Good or bad, it didn't matter. The main thing was that it became easier for him to think if it was also easier for her.

And, once again, rubbing the back of his head, Valera looked at her nose and cheeks, which sometimes turned pale when she was nervous. “Just one outing,” the man whispered, shaking his head, without lifting his body or taking his feet off the floor. “Then we'll go home and do our own things…”

Calm was more valuable than ever. It was necessary for everyone here to think rationally. As the leader, Valera thought about this more often than he thought about sleep. It was important to maintain order in order to survive.