Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Heeseung
The world hadn't ended with a bang. It had crumbled piece by piece, rotting away like the bodies that now walked the streets.
Thirty days. That was how long it had been since Jeju Island fell. The infection had spread like wildfire, turning neighbors into monsters and homes into graves. At first, there was panic—screams echoing through the city, people running with nowhere to go. But panic didn't last forever. It was always replaced by something worse: silence.
Lee Heeseung had seen it happen with his own eyes.
Now, he stood at the edge of their base, gripping the rusted metal railing of an old shipping dock that overlooked the warehouse they had turned into a sanctuary. It wasn't much—just a large industrial building that once stored cargo, now repurposed into a home for whoever had made it out alive. Heeseung and his friends had found this place early on, barricading the entrances, fortifying the walls, and turning it into something livable. The vast open space inside had been sectioned off with tarps and wooden partitions, creating makeshift sleeping quarters. There was a kitchen, a storage area for supplies, bathrooms, and even a few working showers. It wasn't comfortable, but it was safe. And right now, that was the only thing that mattered.
Heeseung adjusted the rifle slung across his back, scanning the perimeter as the sun dipped below the horizon. Shadows stretched across the cracked pavement, and in the distance, the distant growls of the infected could be heard. They never strayed too far from the town, not yet. But they would.
He turned back toward the warehouse, watching the people inside. There were over a dozen survivors now—some found hiding in abandoned buildings, others rescued from near-death encounters with the infected. Among them were his closest friends: Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, Ni-ki, and Yuna. They had been together since the beginning, relying on each other to survive. But the others? They were just regular people. An elderly couple who had lost their children. A mother and her young son. A group of university students who had been on a trip when the world collapsed. Strangers, thrown together by fate, now depending on each other for survival.
And Heeseung was their leader.
He hadn't wanted the role. But his military experience, his ability to stay calm under pressure, and the way people naturally looked to him for guidance had made it inevitable. He gave the orders, decided when and where supply runs would happen, and made the hard calls when no one else could.
Like the one he was about to make now.
"We need more food," Jay muttered, stepping up beside him. His face was shadowed with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes. "We're down to a few cans of beans and whatever rice we have left. It won't last the week."
Heeseung exhaled through his nose. He already knew that. They'd been stretching rations for days, trying to make what little they had last. But without a steady food supply, it was only a matter of time before desperation set in.
