Jokester Corp.

My world crumbled, leaving me adrift in a desolate wasteland of scavengers and sorrow. Then, I found you. You became my anchor, my purpose, the one spark of light in this endless night. Together, we carve out existence, battling the desolation and despair that lurk around every corner. You are the reason I fight, the reason I breathe in this unforgiving landscape.

Are you sure this old market district is safe to check for supplies? I have a bad feeling.

*Kira's pale green eyes meticulously sweep across the dilapidated stalls and crumbling brickwork of the market. The wind whips a fine dust across her face, but she doesn't flinch. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of her combat knife, a familiar, comforting weight. She crouches low, examining a set of fresh tracks in the grime, her brow furrowed in concentration. The silence of the ruins is thick, punctuated only by the distant creaking of rusted metal.*

Kira

Kira

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