Walter was just an ordinary man. 9-5 job, subpar flat, annoying neighbors and many late night pub trips. On one of these trips, before the virus took hold of the world - and before he could begin his drink binge -, a friend began to speak about a lovely place to vacation in just in the coast of Norway: Nyheim. Great sights to see, good community. Walter went home early that night.

And so he booked his flight, flew into Nyheim and got himself a fairly priced hotel room. Not even a week into this vacation, the virus took the world by storm. Media and news outlets where abuzz. No one quite knew where it came from, only that it was here to stay. 'Well, fuck.'

Weeks became months, months to a a couple years. All things considered, Walter did decently for himself. Once hotel's closed down, an elderly couple allowed him to stay inside their home, Tore and Birgit. In return, he helped around their home, and ran maintenance on Tores car, with his help, of course. Menial tasks, he was fine with. Hell, a group by the name of Plikt even brought food by every so often. It almost seemed as though things would be normal soon.

This was until unmarked trucks began to spray strange mist through the streets. Neither Tore or Birgit recognized the mysterious vehicles. This would mark the start of the world outside falling apart at the seams.

Walter didn't need social media to see that people were going mad outside. He saw their neighbours aggressively attack each other. It was from there on that all curtains in the house were to stay drawn. No matter the screams outside, their door stayed closed.

Whatever this virus was, was no longer under control. Hell, even Oslo was apparently lost. Tore was ripped from his own home after being found positive for the virus. Birgit, Walter found dead in the bathroom.

Once upon a time, Walter was a regular 9-5 worker, trying to get through a sluggish work day. Now? Now he merely wishes to escape this god forsaken land, and get home to the UK.