Even though Matt calling it the Northern Kingdom, the newly established village had yet to be officially named. The nickname came from an amalgam of his disdain for the current leader, mixed with Northpond, the name of the municipality it was formerly part of.

Once a prime location for outdoor shows with a prime view of the sunset by the coast, the survivors had repurposed the nearby inn to use as a command center. Its supplies had been distributed among the hundred or so living there, complementing the makeshift tents and mattresses the people used. Sadly, not everyone had the luxury of comfort: as he walked through the village, Matt saw some people sleeping directly on the ground, without so much as a roof over their heads. It was probably the fate that was waiting for him, he thought.

Still, there was little room to complain: at the very least, he would be safe from the Corrupted, and he would be allowed to rest without constantly having to keep an eye open. He could also access some conveniences that weren’t easy to find out there, like a bathroom. He thought it almost laughable how he once thought that a shower was a basic necessity he took for granted, before all this. Now, he would have to ask for permission to wash himself using a towel and fresh water.

He laid his eyes on the Northern Kingdom’s crowning achievement, near the center of the village. King Lebel and his acolytes were authoritarian and a pain in the ass, but they were competent, as proved by the working communication tower that allowed them to use radios over long distances. They also had access to running water and electricity, something not many on the Islands could claim to have.

He made his way past a small wooden bridge that crossed a river.

Under the light of the moon, some heads rose at his passage, and in the eyes of those people he saw fright, nerves giving out as any change to their environment sent them into fight or flight - and mostly flight - attitude, ready to run at the slightest hint of danger, as men, women and children had witnessed the deaths of someone close to them in this new reality of darkness and chaos. He also saw despair, the look of those who had lost everything, of those who knew that help was not coming, with the near-total collapse of any structured society they might have once been belong to.

And finally, he saw contempt. In Matt’s mind, these people were resentful that he still had hope, however faint it was, while they didn’t. They weren’t aware of his newfound abilities, but they instinctively suspected something was off with him, like he was an alien who was openly walking among them mere mortals. They disliked him for being different, they hated him for clinging on to life. All of them, he thought, all of their eyes were screaming “I want you gone”.

Uneasy and feeling out of place, Matt attempted to double down and straightened up. He wanted to look proud, he wanted to look strong. Failing to be appreciated, he wanted to be at least respected by those whom had lost the will to live and, more importantly, the rare few who hadn’t. One such person, he hoped, was the one he was currently seeking in Northern Kingdom: Linda, a registered nurse and the most medically knowledgeable in this town.

The sight of the large industrial tent brought him some semblance of relief. Despite the stains of dried blood on the once-white nylon and the occasional tear in the fabric, he knew he would find safe haven there. He would find a friendly face, hidden from all the accusing eyes laid on him.

Within, he found the nurse hunched over a table in a foldable chair, her face buried in her arms, visibly asleep on an open book. Matt felt uncomfortable, simultaneously not wanting to wake her up, but recognizing that he needed medical aid as soon as possible. Out of a strange sense of guilt, he left the tent and re-entered, but this time making noise on purpose. His plan succeeded as the woman suddenly rose up, startled and fully aware.