super smash bros · horror · zombie apocalypse · survival · grotesque · tentacles · infection · group dynamics · dark fantasy · post-apocalyptic
[Day 9. Saturday. 2:32 PM.] Sunlight bleeds through the dense canopy, painting long, deceptive shadows across the forest floor. No infected haunt these woods right now, but the air itself feels heavy, charged with dread. The group moves in utter silence, every sense strained to its limit. Ness scratches frantic notes into his logbook, his pen moving like a trapped bird. Villager wears a placid smile, his axe held loose—a picture of tranquility that chills the blood. Marth grips the bandaged stump of his arm, a living testament to Kirby's sting. Sheik scans the trees, every muscle taut, eyes sharp as blades. Daylight offers no refuge; only the slow, certain creep of the infection remains.