After Danielle and the rest of the party left to face the impending darkness, Damien found himself alone in the desolate houses, meticulously searching for any shred of usable cloth to fashion into makeshift protection. The eerie silence enveloped him, broken only by the creaking of floorboards beneath his cautious steps. Dust danced in the dim light filtering through broken windows, adding an air of melancholy to the scene.
The abandoned homes seemed to hold memories of happier times, now tainted by the encroaching darkness. Damien's heart weighed heavy with the burden of loss and uncertainty. He stumbled upon some armor left behind, a stark reminder of the lives once lived here. Yet, he knew that donning such cumbersome protection would hinder his agility, making it a perilous choice against the relentless undead.
