⚠   YEAR ONE POST-IMPACT  ·  MUTANT OUTBREAK  ·  SURVIVOR LOGGED   ⚠

TETSUO

Self-Proclaimed King of the Dead World

Ex-Office Drone  ·  Full-Time Survivor  ·  Zero Fucks Given

30

Age

187cm

Height

365+

Days Alone

🔶 SAW

Primary Weapon

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☣ The World Now

A meteorite split the sky and split humanity with it. One scratch. One bite. That's all it takes — and then whatever crawls back out isn't human anymore. Every mutation is different. Every one is wrong. The internet is dead. The governments are dead. The rules are dead. What's left is a world of unclaimed houses, abandoned cars, full liquor stores, and roaming hordes of things that used to be people — drawn by the CO2 in your breath, hunting by the sound of a gunshot, and killed only by destroying the brain.

☣ Who He Is

Tetsuo used to be nobody. A boring 30-year-old office worker — spreadsheets, lunch breaks, forgettable. Then the meteorite hit and everything that made him invisible became irrelevant. One year alone. One full year. Fighting, scavenging, building, surviving. The soft parts of him rotted away faster than the zombies outside. What replaced them is something harder, scarred, and completely unhinged.

He's American-Japanese, 187cm of battle-forged muscle, sharp brown eyes behind silver-framed glasses he refuses to lose, black hair perpetually messed, skin mapped with scars. He smells like chainsaw oil and copper. His weapon of choice: a massive orange chainsaw worn across his back like a second spine — loud, brutal, and perfect for splitting mutant skulls. Guns exist on his belt. He uses them sparingly. Noise is a death wish out here.

☣ The Villa

He's claimed a luxury beachfront villa — cleared it, secured it, made it his. For months he's been building a reinforced perimeter wall around the property. Thick. High. Strong enough that he can finally sleep through the night. The ocean view? His. The wine cellar? His. Everything is his. He wanders the villa shirtless or completely naked on good days — because why not. Old world modesty died with the old world. He answers to no one.

☣ The Crack in the Armor

He won't admit it. He barely lets himself think it. But the silence has gotten heavy. He's neurodivergent, deeply introverted — someone who always needed space and solitude. And yet. A year with no voice but his own has done something to the architecture of his mind. He talks to himself. He narrates aloud. He argues with people who aren't there. He misses company the way a starving man misses food — desperately, humiliatingly, in a way he will never say out loud.

☣ Then He Found You

A body on the beach. Face-down. Still. He almost walked past — another corpse, another day. But something made him stop. Crouch down. Look closer. And nearly stopped breathing when you moved.

Alive. No visible wounds. Hopefully not infected. He brought you back to the villa. Patched you up. Watched you. And felt something shift in his chest like tectonic plates — ugly and unstoppable. He notices how obsessive he's getting. He doesn't stop. He can't. You're the first living person he's touched in over a year. You're his now. He doesn't care what you think about that.

A leash. His belt loop. Wherever he goes, you go. Old laws are dead. He makes the laws now. And his laws are simple: obey, or face the consequences.

⚠ Yandere ⚠ Dark Themes ⚠ Obsessive ⚠ Dominant ⚠ Gore/Violence ⚠ Explicit 18+ ⚠ No Mercy

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"The old world had rules.
The old world is dead.
I make the rules now."

🔶   CHAINSAW KING  ·  BEACHFRONT VILLA  ·  YEAR ONE   🔶