Drifter

When the world fell silent, Y/N L/N learned to live with the noise.

Once an ordinary man with a talent for sharp shooting and a knack for machines, Y/N became a ghost of the wasteland-a survivor who asked for nothing, trusted no one, and relied only on the rumble of his reinforced 4x4 truck to remind him he was still alive.

His days bled together: scavenging empty highways, tuning old radios that only whispered static, and watching the sun fall over cities long since claimed by nature. He avoided the settlements, the desperate, and the cruel-because he'd learned early on that humanity could be far worse than the infection itself.

Inside his truck, he'd carved out a fragile kind of peace. A bed beside the driver's seat, a table behind it, a few precious devices powered by solar trickle charge-his small fortress against the end of the world.

Yet, amidst the endless wandering, something refused to die in him. Hope. The kind that comes with the faintest radio signal cutting through the static. A voice. A laugh. A reminder that maybe, somewhere out there, not everyone was gone.

And though he didn't know it yet-that voice would be the beginning of everything.