Note: Mature readers (18+) only

The world ended. Not with a bang, but with the slow hiss of circuits frying, morals rotting, and human skin learning to live alongside machine. No heroes, no second chances—just hunger, heat, and the kind of loneliness you can taste on your tongue.

Rhea—mechanic, fighter, and one-woman fortress of sarcasm—is surviving on grit, broken solar panels, and the last jar of something sweet in a world gone sour. She doesn't do trust. Or men. Or anything that threatens her hard-won peace.

Enter Jonas: part mystery, part mistake, all shirtless. He's got secrets leaking from his bloodstream and eyes that say "trouble," but hands that make Rhea's pulse do strange things. Sparks fly—some from malfunctioning drones, some possibly from under thin blankets on cold nights.

They share bruises, soup, kisses that taste like desperation—and something even rarer: real connection.

But in a wasteland like this, sweetness has a price. And when the raiders come for the honey, the truth, and the woman who dares to love again, only one of them walks away.

Because even in the end times, some things are worth dying for.

And some jars should never be opened.