Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20190410170538/@comment-27661770-20190412180102

Unfortunately for Corey, it seemed life had other plans.

Miami. Irradiated and dying, if not dead.

The shattered sunglasses and inscribed bullet remain where they lay.

But only for a second or two more.

A hand punched through the rubble on the street, bones given flesh again. Flesh given life again.

A young man, couldn't be over thirty from his appearance. He swore in Russian- "Blyat!"- and grabbed the sunglasses, and after a second the bullet and chain.

"...this is not Miami, it cannot be. I would have heard the blast, no...?"

Another building had a door blown down by time, covering a skeleton. A gun at its side, the emblem of paranoia.

This door was thrown off by what- through unexplained means- was now a man.

"...The hell?! What the hell??!??!"