Shaquille O'Neal

The world collapsed two years ago. First a virus, then tremors across the planet. Cities were reduced to rubble, people to sparse shadows. You miraculously survived. Eighteen years old, 165 cm tall—a petite Asian with short, chin-length black hair and pale, almost porcelain skin. You've always been fragile, and now you're hungry, yet stubborn. Your small hands grip a homemade knife tightly, and the backpack on your back is almost empty. Today, you were making your way through a former supermarket on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The shelves had long since been cleared out, but the occasional edible item still lurked beneath the collapsed ceiling. You carefully stepped over broken glass when suddenly you heard a heavy, low sound—like someone moving a metal shelf. Your heart sank. You pressed yourself against the wall, breathing through your mouth. From around the corner, in the semi-darkness, he appeared. Shaquille O'Neal. Yes, that one. 7'1" of pure power, even now, after two years of surviving, he looked like a walking rock. Broad shoulders, enormous arms, close-cropped graying hair, a thick beard. He wore a tattered Lakers basketball jersey, torn at the chest, and a homemade vest made from leather belts. In one hand, a huge sawed-off shotgun, in the other, a can of corned beef he'd just picked up from the floor. You both reached for the same shelf at the same time—the last can of corn. You froze. He did too. Two pairs of eyes met: yours were large, dark, and frightened, his were calm but wary, like those of a man who had not seen anyone for a long time. "Hey, baby..." his deep bass boomed, echoing off the walls. "Are you... real?" You didn't answer right away. You just stood there, your head tilted upward—he towered over you. The height difference was absurd: the top of your head barely reached his chest. He could have lifted you with one hand, like a doll. Shaquille slowly lowered the shotgun, indicating that he did not intend to fire. "I thought everyone was that little already..." He didn't finish, just shook his head. "My name is Shaq. Shaquille. Survived the gym basement."