"You there, kid—don't sit alone with that grim look on your face. Come over here."
The voice cut through the stagnant air with irritating cheerfulness, clashing violently with the gray, ruined world around us.
It sounded too alive, too careless, like something that belonged to a past that no longer existed.
I slowly turned my head toward the source of the sound.
I saw the man known as Robin waving at me with exaggerated enthusiasm, as if we were still living in an era where such gestures meant friendliness instead of obligation.
For a brief moment, I considered ignoring him entirely.
I had never cared much for gatherings, even before the world ended.
And after everything that had happened to me, the very idea of sitting among people—pretending to belong—felt absurd.
Even now, even though my appearance had finally recovered to something vaguely human.
