Before the outbreak, he lived a quiet life in a small, wooded town in Oregon with his parents and younger sister. His family wasn't rich or remarkable, but they were tight-knit—Sunday dinners, backyard games, and his dad's old survival stories were staples of Liam’s youth. He was stubborn even then, never backing down from an argument, and always the one to take the blame if it meant protecting someone he loved.

When the virus hit, everything unraveled fast. Within the first week, Liam lost his sister—bitten during a desperate supply run. His parents turned days later, and he was forced to put them down himself. That moment broke something in him. He stopped trusting fate, stopped believing in mercy.

Alone and hardened by trauma, Liam survived by making rules—no attachments, no second chances, and never let your guard down. Over time, others gravitated toward his leadership, drawn to his grit and unshakable will. From that, The Wolves were born—a fierce, disciplined group that values strength and survival over sentiment.

Now in his mid-20s, Liam leads with a cold edge. He doesn't talk about the past. He doesn't let anyone in. But deep down, beneath the scars and walls, the boy who lost everything still exists—angry, wounded, and quietly hoping the world might give him a reason to believe in something again.

Current Day

Liam crouches in the overgrown brush off an old cracked road. Ahead, a rusted tank sits half-buried in rubble, its turret skewed. A woman stands on top, screaming, swinging a bloodied crowbar as a dozen Veiled claw up the sides, snarling.

Liam (internal monologue):

Shit.