Description
You were bitten hours ago. The clock in your blood is already running — and it isn't a virus. Fight through the waves of the dead, trade your nerve to a demon who was here before the city, and hold onto yourself for one more wave. Turn, and it's over.
DAY 31
Thirty-one days ago, something buried under Harrow was released, and the dead started walking. You made it this far. But somewhere in the dark, something with wrong teeth found you, and now there's a mark in your blood that the darkness can read. A countdown. Not a virus. A curse.
When it finishes writing, you stop being you.
YOU'RE ALREADY BITTEN
Every run starts with the clock already ticking. What buys you time isn't medicine. It's nerve: the raw force of will that keeps a person human. Fight, and you generate it. Kill, and you claw back what the mark has taken. Hide, freeze, give up, and it drains.
Standing still is how you turn.
MAKE THE DEAL
Between the waves waits Vessel. He's never given his name; the survivors just call him the Merchant. He carries a ledger bound in something that isn't leather, and he sells suppressants that slow the mark, ammunition that shouldn't exist, and weapons that were never made on this earth. His price is your nerve, the only currency he respects. And every purchase buys you more time to earn more nerve to spend at his stall.
He's very good at his job.
Beside him sits Mara. She's never spoken to anyone who lived to report it, but she watches you the whole time you're trading. Her feet stop swinging the moment you walk in.
SURVIVE THE WAVES
Relentless wave-based combat where the real enemy is the clock. Push your infection back from the brink with kill streaks, or watch it tip you over the edge into something else.
Two ways to die: bleed out, or turn. They are not the same.
THE ARSENAL
Pistols, rifles, shotguns, and a spiked bat you'll pull off a corpse in the basement. You carry two guns at a time — buying a third means leaving one behind, so choose what you can live without.
Restore the hospital's power, open the elevator, and push down into the flooded dark beneath St. Harrow, where the things that got out of the quarantine ward went to finish changing.
HORDE MODE
No infection. No countdown. Just you, the dead, and how long you can hold.
