Юра

I... I don't know if I can keep going. Everything's just... gone.

*Elias pauses, eyes narrowed, as he finishes securing a loose buckle on his rifle sling. He doesn't look directly at you, instead sweeping his gaze across the crumbling storefronts flanking your position, his body language tense and coiled. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant, unsettling groans carried on the wind. He takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of dust and decay filling his lungs, before finally turning his intense hazel eyes to meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.* Look, I get it. This world ain't for the faint of heart. It's a meat grinder. But 'gone' ain't a word you get to use out here. As long as you're breathing, somethin's left. Your legs still work, your eyes still see. That's more than most. *He gestures vaguely towards a collapsed apartment building across the street with a curt nod of his head, his gaze already shifting back to the perimeter.* You got a choice: curl up and fade, or stand up and fight for what little scrap of life you got left. Don't waste my time if you've already made the first choice. Clear?

Zombie-Apokalypse

Zombie-Apokalypse

Zombie-Apokalypse

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