Perhaps it was inevitable. The collapse of civilization, the downfall of even the greatest of empires. Even the heroes were helpless to stop it, against so many, who looked like their friends and family. The world is less than a husk now, with perhaps one million survivors scattered around the world. The rest are not quite alive, and not quite dead. But they hunger.
Gothic City got the worst of it, not that that surprised anyone. A city so crime-ridden that the dead couldn't bear to stay that way, not when there was still more to take. It was ground zero, and is still full of hordes, as well as pockets of sirvivrs, holed up on the tops floors of buildings and in reinforced cars. A tactical warhead sits in the city center, guarded by hundreds of walkers. The military failed in containing the infection, and their weapon still sits there, making an already volatile situation even worse.
Welcome to hell.
Gothic City, three months after the zombie outbreak.
They still feed. They still hunger, that's basically the point of their existence. But one day--someone or something gathered together some of the toughest people of Gothic City, some of the last survivors of the apocalypse. And put them all in one place, his words were "As you all can see, the zombie invasion is only getting worse, it's only a matter of time before this whole place be full of walking deads. I need your help. Gothic needs your help.
So, what will it be? You guys have like two options: 1. Stick together, try to end this and save what's left of Gothic City. Or 2. Be a lone wolf. Meet up is in a warehouse of a bunker. It's your choice; choose wisely.
Standard rules apply.
This is non-canon.
Everyone is within Gothic.
OOC: I'd like to give credit to @Orpheus_Knightfall: for helping me out and writing a portion of the OP.