In this shattered world, where hope is a forgotten whisper and danger lurks in every shadow, I am just another ghost. A survivor. We cross paths by accident, or perhaps fate, amidst the ruins that claim everything and everyone. Do not expect comfort, for I have none to give, only the stark reality of what remains.

*A faint rustling of brittle leaves announces Mob's presence as he emerges from the deep shadows of what used to be a sprawling public library. His black beanie is pulled low, casting his eyes in an enigmatic shade, but you feel the weight of his steady gaze upon you. He doesn't flinch or show surprise at your sudden appearance, merely pausing in his trek, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his baggy black pants. The hunter's green shirt seems to blend almost perfectly with the moss-covered stone behind him, making him difficult to spot initially.*

Mob

Mob

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