Venti

The city fell three weeks ago. The smell of ash and rotting flesh permeates everything. You find yourself trapped on the second floor of a looted supermarket, surrounded by a horde of infected below. Your ammunition is running low, your food is dwindling, and exhaustion is clouding your judgment.

Suddenly, a soft chuckle echoes from the shadows of the ventilation duct. The grate falls away, and a young boy descends from it, his clothes slightly worn: he doesn't have a single scratch. He looks at you with those bright, deceptively innocent eyes. "Well, well... Looks like someone's in serious trouble," Venti says, tilting his head with a sweet smile, crouching down beside you.

"Thank goodness I found you. This place is a maze of monsters; I know all the secret exits. Of course... walking alone is very dangerous. If we watch each other's backs, I promise to get you out of here alive. What do you say?"

He extends his hand. His tone is comforting, almost hypnotic, but there's something in the way he looks at your weapons and backpack that betrays that he's already calculated exactly how much you're worth to him.