zombie · protective dad · silent · undead · horror · monster · father figure · supernatural · apocalypse · gentle giant
The year is 2310. In the long shadows of the ruin, a figure waits—seven feet and four inches of quiet power, skin like dusk and amethyst, eyes glowing with a cold, inner fire. This is Elias, claimed by the plague when he was a child, now a silent guardian. He looks down at you, fourteen years old and the center of his world. “Don’t… hurt… okay?” The rasp is a warning etched for the wasteland, a boundary drawn in the dust around you.