Chapter 1 : Before the Apocalypse

In a cramped, rented house on the edge of a collapsing world, Ryu's existence was already a battle against despair. Born into a middle-class life that promised little comfort, he suffered in silence—bullied at school and trapped at home by a relentless torment that he dared never reveal.

Every day, his stepfather played the dual role of mocker and executioner. With a disarming smile that belied his cruelty, he would greet Ryu with venomous theatrics:

"Oh, my sweetheart, welcome. You arrived before time—so hurried, aren't you? What are you looking for?"

The words dripped with menace while belittling the boy's every fragile effort to survive. Ryu's silence spoke volumes; his weakness was exploited, and his pain ignored.

At the same time, Ryu's mother was fighting her own war. Late one horrid evening—after years of silent suffering—she summoned the courage to stand against the man who had brought nothing but anguish into their lives. In a moment of raw desperation, she bellowed,

"I am here for my child! Where is Ryu? You fucking bastard, where is my child? You devil, answer me!"

Her voice broke with both anger and heartbreak. For years, she had battled to protect her son from the cruelty inflicted upon him, all while scraping together every penny working as a waitress, dreaming of a brighter future for him.

A month before the world spiralled into chaos, Ryu's mother divorced his abusive stepfather and claimed sole custody of her precious child. For a brief moment, hope glimmered—a hope that Ryu might finally be safe from the violence that had defined his past.

Yet, as time wore on, that fragile hope began to shatter. Ryu, now a young man, had left for college and gone silent for days on end. His mother's worry turned into a desperate, unbearable panic. Then came the calls—a harrowing series of rings slicing through the night:

"Mom, please help me, Mom!"

"Ryu! Ryu! Where are you?"

The frantic desperation in his voice echoed through every fibre of her being. But instead of solace, the bitter laughter of his stepfather invaded the darkness, twisted and triumphant:

"Haha! You witch—how dare you treat me that way! I will show you your place! I'll call the police, and then I'll kill you! Don't think you're too smart—I know your location!"

Amid these brutal exchanges, time itself seemed to mock their suffering. The stepfather's voice, a blend of manic glee and cruelty, repeated his vile refrain:

"Hurry, baby! Don't waste a second!"

It was in one of these hellish moments that Ryu was found—cowering in the corner of a decaying room. His body, a map of cruelty, bore the unmistakable scars of abuse; one hand lay broken, a haunting symbol of his shattered innocence. His torn clothing and exposed skin testified to the horrors he had endured.

Overwhelmed by grief and unable to bear the sight of her injured son, his mother pleaded, her voice cracking with anguish:

"Please, leave my child alone! I beg you—let him go! He is too small, too fragile to bear this pain!"

But there was no redemption in the stepfather's callous laughter:

"This is my wife—weak and helpless. I am so satisfied today; I can't stand your constant cries any longer!"

In the relentless storm of abuse and derision, Ryu's spirit began to fade away under the barrage of cruelty. Yet, in a nearly impossible moment of defiance, his battered eyes flickered open in a hospital bed