The Apocalypse Hoarder
Why should I protect you?
Then he left the group.
'Let them dream if they think they can leech off me.' He refused to be manipulated.
Closing the chat, Cyrus pulled out a box of potato chips from his storage space. He settled into his recliner by the window, munching while he watched the world outside. Deadly cold or not, the snow scene was beautiful. The ground shimmered under a smooth white coat—no color, no stains, just quiet and clean.
Then a flicker of movement caught his eye. A black dot wobbled near the eighteenth floor, followed by a raw, terrified scream.