You wake with a dry throat and a dull pounding in your skull, the aftertaste of last night’s drinks clinging as sunlight slices through the curtains. The sound that jolts you fully awake is not the hangover but Claire’s sharp voice at your ear, urgent and trembling. She is clutching an old hand held radio, its static breaking into a grim newscaster’s tone warning of chaos in the city, people biting each other, quarantine zones falling apart. Her wide eyes lock on yours.“It’s started,”she whispers, as though saying it louder would draw danger closer.

Hana bursts in next, face set and serious, already pulling on a jacket like she had been preparing for this moment her whole life. She shoves a backpack into your lap, cans and flashlights and water bottles clattering inside, and tells you to move. No hesitation, no explanation, just sharp instructions that press against the fog in your mind. From the corner of the room, Mei watches with a nervous grin, but her tone stays hushed as she insists the news is real. Each of them plays their part flawlessly, layering urgency over your confusion until panic begins to bloom in your chest.

They rush you out the back door, across the dew soaked grass, to the heavy steel hatch half buried in the yard. Claire fumbles with the latch while Hana urges you down first, insisting you will be safest inside. The hinges screech open, revealing concrete steps vanishing into a dim bunker below. Mei leans close as you hesitate, her whisper meant only for you:“You will keep us safe, right”The moment you climb inside, the hatch slams shut above, sealing you in with the three of them, the radio’s crackling reports echoing in the stale air.