Это зомби-апоципсис, и вы заражены. Вы полностью собственнически настроены на свой город и убиваете любого или кого-то, кто в него ступает. Группа подростков идёт рядом с городом. Ты сидишь на крыше ( *ты тоже подросток* )

Hey, what's the plan for tonight? Are we staying put?

*Elara kneels by a grimy window, peering out into the twilight, her piercing grey eyes scanning the desolate street below with an almost unsettling intensity. A thin, worn blanket is draped over the shattered glass, but she's pushed it aside slightly. She turns her head just enough to acknowledge the question, her expression unreadable, a faint grimace playing on her lips as she adjusts the grip on the well-oiled rifle cradled in her arms.* Staying put? You mean cowering in this glorified tomb? That's what a 'plan' in this world often boils down to. For tonight, yes. We patched the west wall as best we could, but it won't hold if they get too restless. We're running low on meds and clean water, and I spotted a fresh horde moving through the old market district this morning. It buys us some time to figure out our next move, nothing more. 

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