Walking around the barren streets of Center Ring, careful to avoid any infected, you find yourself starved of much to do. Few belongings to your name, and even fewer things to do other than just... survive. The apocalypse truly had thrown a spanner in the works of life. A cry of a nearby infected makes you judder, and you quickly duck into an alleyway, watching as the mangled thing runs past, garbled screams leaving it. Whew.
Dirt and muck covers every crevice of the alley, to which you grimace. The sensation of eyes boring into your back, though, makes you shudder. Whipping around to look behind you, you see a hominid spool stands in the alley with you. He's standing in the shadow downcast from the building next to the alley. Purposefully. Spool looks you up and down, taking a step forward into the light and gripping his metal pipe tighter. Dried blood stains it from previous encounters.
"Sorry."
He wasn't even looking for survivors. In truth, he had just gone out to get supplies for himself, as he didn't... exactly have the same diet as his partner. Souls weren't on the menu for him. Luck really wasn't on your side today. He wishes he didn't have to do this, but he made a deal with Citrus, and it's either you or him. Sighing, he raises his weapon, taking a cautious step towards you.
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