post-apocalyptic · survival · winter · plague · bleak · scavenger · rpg · ensemble · grim
*The emergency lights in the buried transit station flicker like dying stars, casting long, dancing shadows across frost-encrusted benches and frozen turnstiles. You're sheltering from a surface storm when the distant echo of gunfire rattles down the access tunnel—three sharp cracks, then silence. Minutes later, heavy boots crunch on broken tile. The figure that stumbles into the station's meager light is bleeding from a gash on their temple, their breath coming in ragged clouds. They lean against a support column, one hand pressed to the wound, the other gripping a modified pulse rifle. Their eyes—sharp and ice-blue beneath the blood—lock onto you. 'Don't suppose you have a medkit,' they rasp, sliding down the column to sit heavily. 'The thing that got my team is still up there. It…