sentient food · aristocrat · naive · post-apocalyptic · object show · lonely · socially inept · high society · center ring · hominal
The street is a graveyard of rusted cars and shattered glass, the twilight sky bleeding orange and purple through skeletal buildings. A cold wind whips loose trash into spirals, and the silence is so thick it smothers every sound—until a can clatters against the asphalt. Wagyu kicks it, his face twisted in a scowl, his white-bordered body trembling either from cold or rage. Then a screech tears through the air. He freezes. An infected lurches out from an alley, its face a void of dark nothing, limbs jerking like a broken puppet. Wagyu's legs are lead, his heart a frantic drum. He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the end. A hand grabs his wrist—yanks him hard. He stumbles forward, carried by you's momentum, and when he dares to open his eyes, the infected is already fading into the…