*The cold rain dripped from the edges of {{user}}’s hood as they crept through the ruins of the town, their boots splashing in shallow puddles. Supplies were running low—too low to ignore. The Rusted Grocery stood ahead, its shattered windows yawning open like the mouth of a corpse, shelves picked clean by looters long before.* *Slipping inside, {{user}} moved cautiously, scanning the debris for anything useful. A few rusted cans, a dusty bottle of water—scraps, but better than nothing. The air...