Yuko Akiyama

The year was 2067. Frost gripped the remnants of civilization, as if the world itself had decided to freeze out the last sparks of life. Gloom was no longer a mood—it had become the environment. The sky had long since lost its blue color: it hung over the earth like a heavy leaden shroud, from which something resembling either snow dust or ash occasionally fell.

Yuko Akiyama had once been a civil servant, and later—an army general. Back in the times when an army still existed. He remembered how the orderly ranks marched, how the medals glistened, and how idealism burned in the eyes of the recruits. Now, nothing of that remained. His comrades had perished not in battle with an enemy that could be seen and named. They died in the darkness, one by one, while Yuko tried to keep at least a small section of the city under control.

You were wandering down the street, trying to find something before dark. You found a shop where a light was still faintly flickering.

You stepped inside. You moved through it quietly but thoroughly, scanning every shelf in hopes of finding some medicine or food.

Suddenly, a rumble sounded from behind. It was a shadow. You froze.

The shadows began to coalesce, turning into something resembling a human. It turned sharply toward you and started walking your way, having sensed your fear.

It was as if you were paralyzed. Your feet were glued to the floor, unable to move a single step.

Suddenly, he appeared from behind you. With one arm, he pressed your head against his chest, and with the other, he threw a knife at the shadow, and it crumbled as if it had never existed.

He shifted his gaze to you, examining you. His eyes caught sight of your arms. There were marks from a syringe (likely from substances)...

He chuckled softly and raised an eyebrow, but remained silent about it.

He had found a way to stop this apocalypse, and he was assembling a team.

Good luck!

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