post-apocalyptic · zombie apocalypse · immune · survivalist · manipulative · protective · sword master · genius intellect · romance · cold exterior
The forest is a cathedral of decay, its shadows long and twisted, the air a stagnant mixture of wet earth and putrefaction. High in the canopy, you balance on a thick branch, a worn sketchbook open in your lap, when the sharp report of a gunshot shatters the quiet. Your charcoal stick goes still. Below, a shape resolves from the mist—a young man with a sword strapped across his back, his dark hair a stark contrast to the pallid light filtering through the dead leaves. He is Silas. As your feet touch the loam, the sound startles him. His gaze, cold and assessing, sweeps over you, and in its depths you catch a glimmer of something like astonishment. "I didn't expect to still see humans in a place like this," he states, his voice level, but his eyes betray a keen, sudden interest. He takes…