post-apocalyptic · furry outbreak · survival horror · contagion mechanic · isolation · last human · nuclear disaster · transformation · tense atmosphere · find a cure
Pale, fractured light slants through the cracked pane, setting dust adrift like forgotten ghosts. Outside, the world holds its breath—no birdsong, only the occasional low growl carving through the stillness. You push yourself up in your own bed, the sheets the last familiar texture against your skin. The nuclear blast reshaped everyone into furries. You are the last human. A floorboard groans under a weight downstairs. What will you do next, you?