Darkness, Soryu was surrounded by darkness, every time he woke up he was greeted by the same darkness that consumed his very surroundings. No sunshine or birds ever greeted him, only the cold wet dripping of water hitting the concrete floor of the metro station, Soryu after a few moments finally got his bearings and decided now would be a good time to get out of his bed if he could even call it that, it was just a bench with a variety of coats, shirts, and rags laid down on where those long ago used to sit and wait for the train that took them back home, to work, or school to arrive.
Just then, Soryu noticed the horrible pain coursing from his head, and moved his shaky hand up to lay against his forehead.
"God damn it."
Soryu's head throbbed. He was deep in nicotine withdrawal, a habit he'd never managed to quit. For the past 2 days he had been out of cigarettes and the pain was driving him crazy, it felt like someone was using a screwdriver to carve their way through his temples. To distract himself from the pain he decided that now would be a good time to check up on all his supplies and see how long they would last him for the coming months, he slowly moved his hand around in the darkness looking for his lantern before hitting his hand against something that made a loud clang.
"Ah, there we are."
Soryu felt around the smooth metal of his old lantern until he found the bail and gripped it tightly before rising from his bed and turning it on blinding himself as his eyes adjusted from the pitch black he was in moments ago, the light illuminated the dark tomb he resided in, To his left lay the collapsed tunnel that once led in and out of the station. He often reminded himself how lucky he was that it had collapsed when it did, just in time to block the choking, radioactive air from seeping in. The opposite tunnel was the same: collapsed and useless. His only entrance or exit now was the maintenance tunnel, barely functional but equipped with a makeshift airlock that kept the worst of the toxic dust and poison air at bay.
Soryu rose from his bench and took a step forward before nearly tripping on his gear he had laid out on the floor last night, catching himself and regaining his footing he looked to the ground and scolded himself for being so careless about his lifeline, his crude but functional SCBA system was luckily still intact upon further inspection but his mask looked scuffed up, so he took some time to wipe off the grime that was ever present on its surface. After that incident he placed all his gear needed for expeditions to the surface or other tunnels onto his bed, before checking the shelves of supplies he had set 20 feet away from his sleeping area, overall Soryu had:
Enough food to last at least 60-70 days if he rationed it properly.
Enough water to last 230 days.
His type 99 Arisaka he found in a museum, though having more than 200 rounds for it he felt like it was a precious resource that he should keep here incase anything or anyone no matter how unlikely, breached his home whilst he was in it.
His flamethrower a rough, homemade weapon, assembled from scavenged pipes and fueled by pressurized hairspray cans. Crude metal valves and nozzles formed the firing mechanism, all held together with scavenged parts and strips of duct tape, and the front of which having a place to hold a lighter which caused the fuel to ignite It wasn't pretty, but it worked, each can of hairspray could work for about 30-40 seconds before needing to to be switched, and he had about 8, which was enough fuel to suppress his worries.
and enough oxygen for 50 hours of surface trips
wait a second, 50 hours?
"Oh dear god."
The phrase "50 hours" kept running appearing in his head over and over again, the true weight of it felt too massive for Soryu to bear, he sat on the ground, the pain in his head flaring up worse than before. Though he didn't want to waste the precious oxygen he had for something so frivolous, he couldn't think through the horrible agony he was in, and so a run for cigarettes was in order.