The car screeched to a halt.

  Nero stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as the sound of an idling engine filled the silent streets. The headlights beamed directly at him, making it hard to see. His fingers clenched the straps of his backpack as he took a cautious step forward.

  Then the door opened.

  A heavy boot hit the pavement.

  And then he stepped out.

  The man was huge.

  Towering. Built like a beast.

  His arms were thick, his broad chest wrapped in torn fabric that barely covered his muscular frame. His face was shadowed under the night sky, but the moment he took another step closer, the dim light revealed his rugged features—a hardened jawline, sunken yet sharp eyes, and stubble that had long since grown wild.

  Nero swallowed hard.

  His body screamed at him to run.

  For months, he had only seen the dead. But now, there was another living, breathing human in front of him, and it was almost too much.

  His instincts twisted inside him. What if this man wasn't friendly? What if he wanted to steal from him? What if he wanted to kill him?

  Then—

  The man moved.

  Fast.

  Nero flinched, instinctively stepping back, but before he could react—

  Strong arms wrapped around him.

  The grip was tight, overwhelming.

  A powerful chest pressed against him, the warmth of another person shocking against his cold skin.

  And then—

  A choked sob.

  Nero's eyes widened.

  He felt it—the trembling.

  The man was shaking. Crying.

  "Thank God," the man whispered, his voice breaking. His grip tightened as if he was afraid Nero would disappear. "Thank God I'm not alone."

  Nero's own breath hitched.

  For months, he had wandered these dead streets, talking to himself, burying corpses, waiting—hoping—for this moment.

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  But now that it was happening, he didn't know how to react.

  His vision blurred as heat rushed to his eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides before they hesitantly, desperately, clutched at the man's shirt.

  A sob—one he didn't even realize he had been holding in—escaped his lips.

  He had told himself he was strong. He had forced himself to keep going.

  But now, with another person holding onto him—crying just as he was—the weight on his chest shattered.

  Tears streamed down his face as he let out a ragged laugh, his shoulders shaking.

  He wasn't alone.

  He wasn't the last.

  After a moment, the man pulled away slightly, clearing his throat, though his red, swollen eyes betrayed his emotions. He sniffled before turning back toward the car and gesturing toward it.

  "There's two of us," he said, his voice still hoarse. "I found her before I found you."

  Nero followed his gaze.

  Inside the car, nestled in the shadows of the passenger seat, was a girl.

  She looked about his age—maybe younger. Her clothes were tattered, her dark hair slightly messy, but her eyes.

  Wide. Alive.

  She stared at him through the open car door, gripping her knees close to her chest as if she wasn't sure whether to step out.

  Nero felt something tighten in his chest.

  For months, he had dreamed of this moment—of finding another person.

  Now there were two.

  The man exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "She was alone too when I found her," he said. "I don't even know how she survived, but…" His voice softened. "We made it together."

  Nero swallowed past the lump in his throat.

  They had found each other.

  Two strangers in the middle of extinction.

  And now—he had found them.

  The girl hesitated for a moment before slowly stepping out of the car. She hugged her arms, biting her lip as if unsure of what to say.

  Nero let out a shaky laugh, wiping his face.

  For so long, he had thought this was his burden alone—to walk the world, to search, to survive.

  But now?

  Now, he wasn't just surviving.

  Now, he was living.

  And he wasn't alone anymore.

  The inside of the car was silent, save for the gentle hum of the engine.

  Nero sat in the back seat, his fingers running over the cracked leather. The air smelled faintly of dust and rusted metal, but none of that mattered—he was inside a car with other people.

  For months, he had only heard his own voice. Only his own footsteps echoing against dead streets.

  Now, there were two others. Two survivors.

  The man—Badong—gripped the steering wheel, his calloused fingers tightening before he let out a deep breath. "Where were you when it happened?" he asked, his voice rough yet steady.

  Nero stared at his lap for a moment before exhaling. "Manila." He leaned back, eyes flickering toward the darkened skyline. "I was under a tree. Just... watching."

  Badong glanced at him through the rearview mirror, his thick brows furrowing.

  Nero let out a bitter chuckle. "I had nothing else to do. I was a biology student, just a few months away from graduation. But when the world decided to end, my diploma didn't matter anymore." He paused, his gaze distant. "I just sat there. Read a book about animals. I thought... if I was going to die, I might as well learn something before it happens."

  Badong snorted. "Hah. You're weird, kid."

  Nero smiled faintly. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

  The car jolted slightly as it ran over debris, but Badong's grip on the wheel was steady. He let out a deep sigh before speaking.

  "I was at home," he said, his voice dropping. "With my wife and son."

  Nero and Amira both looked at him.

  Badong's jaw tightened, his knuckles going white against the steering wheel. "I worked construction. It wasn't much, but it put food on the table. That morning, we already knew the asteroid was coming. There were no sirens, no last-minute evacuations—just waiting for the end."

  He chuckled bitterly. "I remember my wife cooking breakfast. Like it was a normal day. My son—he was just six—kept asking me if superheroes were going to save us. And you know what I told him?"

  Nero didn't answer.

  Badong's lips pressed into a thin line. "'Of course they will.'"

  Silence.

  He exhaled sharply, blinking rapidly. "When the impact came… everything shattered. The walls. The ceiling. Them." His voice cracked slightly. "I woke up covered in debris. My house was gone. My family was gone. Just like that."

  Amira's hands curled into fists on her lap.

  Badong let out another humorless laugh, gripping the wheel tighter. "I should've died too. I wanted to die. But I didn't. So, I did the only thing I could—I got in my feet and started finding them."

  His voice was thick with emotion. "At first, I was just looking for them. Digging through the rubble, calling their names, even when I knew they were gone. But when I couldn't find them… I kept looking anyway. Not for them. For anyone."

  He sighed. "But the world was silent. For months, it was just me and the road. No voices. No footsteps. Just ghost towns."

  Nero stared at him, his chest feeling heavier with every word.

  Badong inhaled sharply before tilting his head toward Amira. "Then I found her."

  Amira flinched slightly at the attention but straightened her posture. She was beautiful—even under the dim car light, her features were delicate but strong, framed by dark hair that had long lost its neatness.

  She hesitated before speaking. "I was at home too," she said softly. "But my parents… they were already gone."

  Nero frowned. "Already?"

  Amira nodded. "My father was in the military. My mother was a doctor. When the world realized the asteroid couldn't be stopped, the government called for emergency personnel. My parents left, believing they could still help." Her voice wavered. "They never came back."

  She looked down at her hands, her fingers tightening against her arms. "I stayed in our house. Waiting. Hoping. But when the asteroid hit…" She swallowed. "The world ended."

  For a moment, the only sound was the rumbling of the engine.

  Nero looked between the two of them, his chest tightening. They all had lost something.

  They all had been alone.

  Badong cleared his throat and forced a smirk. "Guess we're all lucky, huh?"

  Nero scoffed. "Some luck."

  Amira smiled faintly. "At least we're here."

  A warm silence settled over them.

  For the first time in months, Nero felt something unfamiliar creeping into his heart.

  Hope.

  He wasn't just surviving anymore.

  He was living.

  And now, he wasn't alone.