บท 128: Story 128: The Dead Sea

Miles had always been a man of the sea. The vast expanse of blue had always been his refuge, a place where he could escape the troubles of the world. But today, the sea was different—eerily calm, almost too quiet. He lay back in his small, weathered boat, letting the gentle waves rock him into a state of relaxation. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the horizon. It would have been perfect if not for the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He closed his eyes, trying to push away the unease. The days had been long and grueling since the world had changed, and sleep was a rare comfort. Out here, away from the chaos of the mainland, he could almost pretend things were normal again. No more bloodthirsty hordes of the undead, no more endless running. Just peace.

But peace, as Miles was about to learn, was an illusion.