In the end, it wasn't the undead that claimed him, but time itself. David lived to a ripe old age, a solitary existence, but one filled with purpose. He had survived in a world where survival seemed impossible, and he had done so with a strength and resilience that no one could have predicted. Every day he woke up with the determination to continue, not just for himself, but for the memory of those who had fallen.His settlement became more than just a fortress—it became a home. David filled it with the remnants of the old world: books, photographs, mementos of a time when humanity thrived. He kept a journal, recording his thoughts and experiences, knowing that there would be no one to read them, but finding comfort in the act of writing. It was his way of preserving the human story, of leaving something behind in a world that had forgotten what it meant to be human.As the years passed, David's hair turned white, his body grew frail, and the strength that had carried him through so many trials began to fade. He knew his time was running out, but he wasn't afraid. He had lived a life that few could imagine, and he had found peace in the solitude that had once terrified him.One cold winter morning, David woke up feeling weaker than usual. He knew, deep down, that this was the end. He had always imagined that his final moments would be filled with fear or regret, but as he lay in his bed, surrounded by the memories of the life he had lived, he felt only a deep sense of contentment. He had done everything he could, survived longer than anyone else, and now, it was time to rest.With a final breath, David closed his eyes, and the last human on Earth passed away.