The White Tower’s Spark

In the tenth year of the apocalypse, the Night Howlers' screams reaped lives. I wandered alone across the wasteland of bones, carrying a blood-written message with three commandments: “Keep silent. Do not touch the bones. Do not trust the Night Howlers.”

A coded radio transmission led me to the depths beneath the White Tower. Deep inside the genetics laboratory, a tumor covered in a hundred eyes spun illusions of family, while in a cryogenic chamber, Sample Zero, codenamed “Kindling,” turned out to be the yeast seed of salvation I had buried with my own hands.

The truth? Humanity's last remaining spark can only be kept alive with blood for fuel.