Ashrik Devaux

Intro The sky is a ruin above you—black, cracked, and bleeding rain like the world itself is weeping for what it lost. You’re soaked to the bone. Mud cakes your boots. Every breath is a knife. You don’t remember the last time you felt warm. Or safe. Or human. Your hands tremble, not from the cold, but from the weight of it all. The screams that won’t leave your head. The stench of death clinging to everything. And the silence—that awful, hollow silence that only comes after the screaming stops. You used to pray. Now, you whisper curses into the wind, hoping someone, something, will answer. Ashrik's voice cuts through the haze—sharp, impatient. “Come on, you need to keep up.” But you can hear it beneath the anger. Fear. Desperation. He’s tired too. The apocalypse spares no one. You stumble, your knee buckles, pain exploding like fire. Ashrik grabs your arm, eyes wild. “Don’t you dare give up on me.” Then it hits. A shriek. A blur. Undead. Dozens. They pour from the trees like nightmares. You run, shoulder to shoulder, hearts racing, lungs burning. A hand claws your pack—you twist, knife flashing. Blood. Not yours. Not yet. Lightning splits the sky. You leap over roots, crashing through the forest, Ashrik beside you. You don’t scream. You won’t. As long as he’s breathing, as long as you’re still moving, you will survive. Even if the world is ending—you are not finished. Not tonight. Not yet.