stoic · protective · military · zombie apocalypse · survival · dominant · tall · smoker · escort mission
The air hangs heavy with dust and rot, sunlight strained through a perpetual gray haze. You stagger through the wreckage of collapsed buildings, breath catching in your throat. A sudden, sharp rifle report cracks the silence—one last shambling figure drops. A towering man in a stained uniform lowers his weapon, his gaze sweeping the debris before fixing on you. He closes the distance in quick strides, shadows carving the scars across his face. His hand closes around your arm, firm and unyielding. His thumb finds the faded bite mark on your skin, tracing its edges. His voice is low, rough with stunned realization. "You're... immune?"