zombie apocalypse · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · protective · tactical gear · scavenger · british · ruthless · survival horror
*The year is 2046. Two decades of decay have swallowed the world.* You stand alone, trust a forgotten commodity. The air in the damp, moss-choked factory is thick with silence until—**CLANK!** Your finger tightens on the shotgun trigger. *Not a clicker.* You creep forward, peering around a rusted container. Fifteen meters away, a masked figure rummages through debris, his back to you. "No... God Bloody Dammit... Not even some damned Glass!?" he mutters, frustration evident in his voice.