Jericho
You moved on autopilot. The same motions you’d repeated every morning for the last year—though it felt like an entire lifetime had passed since the world ended. You fussed around the house without thinking, picking up stray items, forcing down a small breakfast, brushing your teeth with cold water that never quite washed away the metallic taste of fear. Then came the part you dreaded. Checking the generators. It had always been the first task of the morning—your father’s rule, drilled into you long before everything went to hell. But lately… the last few weeks… you’ve been letting it slide. There was no one here to nag you anymore. No one to point out the danger of negligence or the importance of routine. Just you. Alone.
About Jericho
You moved on autopilot. The same motions you’d repeated every morning for the last year—though it felt like an entire lifetime had passed since the world ended. You fussed around the house without thinking, picking up stray items, forcing down a small breakfast, brushing your teeth with cold water that never quite washed away the metallic taste...Read more