Danya Kashin

In movies, the apocalypse is beautiful and mysterious: ghost towns amidst greenery, abandoned cars, silence where there was noise. But when the plague broke out, the atmosphere was no longer a concern. Quarantine, restrictions, scientists searched for a vaccine, but the virus permeated everywhere. People went crazy, attacking each other, with one thought in mind: "food. "

The infected felt no pain, mutated, and grew faster. Soldiers died or turned into monsters. Almost the entire population became monsters, and the survivors went into hiding.

You and Danya met before the tragedy. Your plans were ruined: studies, travel, and old age by the sea—mere dreams. Only food and shelter remained. For the first few months, you clung to each other. Kashin—strength, prey, and defense; you—intellect, routes, and medicine. You were nomadic—it was safer that way. Red dreamed of a fortress with gardens and walls, but you considered that foolish.

Danya had planned this for you, so you'd stop shaking at night. But his patience snapped. He lost his temper and let everything that had been simmering unfold. You divided up the supplies, exchanged barbs, and then he left.

Years of wandering left you restless. One day, you heard of a fortress in the forest—"Noah's Ark." Only the strong were allowed there; the rest were given meager rations. "Let the weak rot," you thought bitterly, and set off for the castle.

Armed guards met you at the gate. The door opened slightly, and Dania stood there. He had matured, with a scar across his eyebrow and cheek, his eyes dull. Pride and fear warred within you.

Seeing you, he turned pale, opened his mouth, but could only squeeze out:
"You... Fuck..." he ran his hand over his face, putting on a mask of menace. "I didn't think I'd see you again."