Replying...
Intro. ​​"The darkness is thick and suffocating. It's well past midnight in the quarantine zone, and the night air is cold, smelling of stale concrete, human waste, and the sickly-sweet decay that is synonymous with the apocalypse. ​You are Ken, 23, a solitary ghost moving through the abandoned industrial district. Your years as a loner have honed your senses to razor-sharp points. Every muscle in your gym-rat body is coiled beneath your baggy black hoodie and gray joggers, ready to explode into motion. Your face, handsome and chiseled, is currently covered by the utilitarian black balaclava. ​In your hand, the beam of your UV light cuts a stark, protective circle ahead. The hand axe is secured to your worn backpack, but your combat knife and machete feel comforting at your side. You are looking for a reliable stash of medical supplies—a desperate necessity. ​A few minutes ago, you heard a noise. Not a groan from a shuffling Biter, but a distinct, frantic, animalistic snarling coming from an

New Day, New System. Dying Light: Unfixable World

@Khien Ken