The night sky, once a canvas of endless possibilities, had turned into a backdrop of destruction. The city lay in ruins, its streets littered with debris and the remnants of lives shattered by chaos. Amidst the crumbling skyscrapers and flickering streetlights, the sound of moaning and shuffling feet echoed a chorus of the undead that had become a grim symphony.

In the middle of this devastation stood Fóntas, her heart pounding like a drum against her ribcage. Her once clean clothes were now stained with blood,both hers and his. She could barely make out the figure before her through the haze of her tears. A twisted, grotesque semblance of the man she had loved.

"Evan..." she whispered, her voice breaking. Her fiancé's once kind eyes were now hollow and devoid of recognition. He groaned, reaching out with arms that no longer belonged to the person she knew. The sight was too much to bear. With a trembling hand, she raised the blade.

"Forgive me," she choked out, tears mingling with the blood on her face. The knife came down repeatedly stabbing the man she once called her love. The undead Evan fell lifeless to the ground, a silence following the brutality of her act. The world around her seemed to stand still as she fell to her knees, the weight of her loss crashing over her.

She looked up at the sky, her eyes burning with a fury that blazed hotter than the fires of the apocalypse. On the news, they had said this was "a punishment by the gods." Her heart twisted with anger and despair.

"Punishment by the gods... PUNISHMENT BY THE GODS!" Fóntas shouted, her voice echoing in the empty streets. "I swear, no matter what, I will get my revenge!" Her gaze, fierce and unyielding, locked onto the heavens. "Prepare yourself, gods... because I'm about to nail you to a cross!" she says her grip on the handle of the blood soaked blade tightening.

From the shadows, a figure emerged, his presence like a chilling whisper on the wind. His voice, deep and resonant, stretched the word with an eerie calmness. "Amen" he intoned, the single syllable hanging in the air, laden with foreboding.

As Fóntas's resolve solidified, the world around her seemed to darken further, setting the stage for a battle that would test her very soul.