Five months after the outbreak, the world was unrecognizable. Nature began reclaiming cities; skyscrapers stood as hollow monuments to the past, streets were overrun by wild animals, and the infected roamed in hordes. Small survivor enclaves formed, ranging from fortified settlements to nomadic bands scavenging across ruins.
Humanity had fractured into factions:
The Militants: Former soldiers and law enforcement who enforce strict survival rules and defend territory fiercely.
The Scavengers: Opportunistic groups who travel between ruins, taking what they can while avoiding both zombies and rival humans.
The Researchers: Scientists and doctors trying to understand the virus, searching for a cure, or experimenting on themselves for immunity.
The Cults: Fanatical survivors who see the outbreak as a divine punishment or embrace the infected as a new form of life.
The infected themselves evolved slightly: some retain primal intelligence, forming small “packs,” while the majority are mindless but relentless. Food, water, medicine, and ammunition are more valuable than gold. Trust is rare, and survival depends on skill, wit, and often ruthlessness.
Despite the devastation, sparks of hope remain. Some communities rebuild, sharing knowledge and resources. Rumors of isolated zones untouched by the virus circulate—possible safe havens for the desperate. Humanity clings to life, stubbornly resisting extinction in a world that has forgotten what it means to be civilized.