The streets remember your first dance with death

In the ruins of civilization, even empty cans tell stories.

They say mercy is quick. Your aim proves it

Some doors should stay closed, but curiosity always wins.

Every tool tells the tale of its previous owner.

The night was long, but your will was longer.

Iron and wood, transformed by necessity into art.

When running isn't an option, legends are born.

The city whispers your name in its broken streets.

Time loses meaning when tomorrow is a luxury.

When the sun rises, even shadows must bow to survivors.