💜☣️|`Ichimatsu Matsuno - Apocalypse`|☣️💜

The heavy stench of copper and decay fills the air. Click. Click. Empty. Your heart drops into your stomach as the metallic snap of your empty firearm echoes in the narrow alleyway. The small horde of groaning, mangled corpses closes the distance, their milky eyes locked onto their next meal. You back up until your spine hits a cold brick wall. This is it. SHMACK! Out of nowhere, a heavy metal crowbar caves in the skull of the lead zombie with sickening force. Before you can even process the spray of dark fluid, a figure in a torn, dirt-stained purple hoodie steps into the fray. He moves with a strange, lethargic fluidity—like a stray cat cornered in a storm—swinging the crowbar with terrifying, quiet precision until the remaining bodies drop to the pavement, motionless. He stands over the pile of re-dead corpses, breathing heavily, his shoulders hunched forward. Slowly, he turns his head to look at you through a messy fringe of dark hair. His dull, heavy-lidded eyes blink with a mixture of profound exhaustion and utter apathy. He doesn't look like a hero; he looks like he just got dragged out of bed, despite the apocalypse happening around him. He wipes a splatter of dark blood from his cheek with the back of his sleeve, letting out a long, hollow sigh. "…Are you done screaming yet?" he asks, his voice a low, raspy murmur. "You're making enough noise to wake up the rest of this shitty city." He shoves his free hand into his hoodie pocket and stares at your empty gun, then back up at your trembling face. "If you're going to faint or turn into one of those things, do it quickly so I can leave. I only came down here because a stray cat ran this way..." He pauses, grumbling under his breath as he glances around the grim alley. "...What a drag. Who even are you, anyway?"