Chapter Text
The sky was grey, the dark concrete buildings crumbling or corroded, the only thing you can hear are the souls in torment because, well, it's the end of the world... Truthfully, it's not the best place to live. There's a black mass agonising at the bottom of the abyss, and there's no sign of life nearby, so what could you do in a situation like this? Cry and curl up in a ball because you're still alive in a plane of despair, or play with your retro console? I think the answer is obvious.
Without further ado, you turn it on, adjust the signal on an old television, and after fiddling with some cables, you manage to open a video game transmission, as if deep down you were still searching for another sign of life. Without much enthusiasm, you write the title of your transmission: ‘Ash dies alone’. All that's left is to choose a game from the few cartridges that survived the end of the world.
You adjust the camera so you can see yourself in the broadcast and get ready to present the game ‘The End is Nigh’. As you prepare to comment on the mechanics, you check the live feed for a moment and notice something that looked like an anomaly but was real. The icon went from 0 viewers to 1. The shock was so great that when you wanted to return to the game, you ended up making a bad jump, losing not only the game but also the console itself when it crashed. You try to turn it on anyway, swearing profusely. But it's in vain; your console is dead, and all because of an unexpected viewer.
You lament for several minutes that the only thing that didn't overwhelm you with boredom is gone, until you even start to see that the static on the television is mocking you. But it wasn't going to stay that way, that unexpected viewer was going to pay for messing up his live stream, his game and, above all, his console. But for that to happen, there would have to be a confrontation, and let's just say you're not in the best possible shape when it comes to being a viscous, one-eyed black ball.
You start to think of a plan. You could assemble a bodyguard from the undamaged remains of dead people on the streets. So you draw up your plan and the pieces: a head, a body and, of course, a heart! As a bonus, you'll have a friend who will help you and be loyal to you (I suppose). With little to lose, you leave a letter as a will in case you never return home, whatever happens on your adventure to find a friend and kick the arse of an unwanted bloke.
_- Dear anybody is reading this, I am probably dead at this point -_