The garage smelled of old oil and frozen concrete. Jack didn't remember when the world had ended, only that the wind in New York now sounded like a dying animal. There were four of them, huddled under a mountain of discarded carpets and plastic sheets. They didn't talk much. Talking wasted energy, and energy was the only currency that mattered.

For two weeks, they had survived on a single can of peaches and a handful of dried crackers. They had a pact: everything was shared. Jack, the oldest, enforced the rule with a piece of rebar he had found in the rubble. But hunger is a slow poison; it doesn't kill you all at once, it just eats away at the parts of you that make you human.

The conflict started over a small, leather-bound wallet found in the snow. Inside was a single, crumpled ten-dollar bill—useless in a world without stores—and a half-eaten granola bar. The bar was a miracle. For ten minutes, the four of them stared at it, their breaths frosting in the air. The pact didn't break with a shout; it broke with a look.

Leo, the smallest, reached for it first. Jack didn't think. He didn't feel anger or hatred. He simply struck Leo across the face with the rebar. The sound was a dull thud, like a piece of meat hitting a sidewalk. The other two didn't scream; they dove in. It was a scramble of limbs and teeth, a desperate, ugly struggle in the dirt. There was no nobility in it, no tragic arc. Just the sound of fabric tearing and the wet gasp of someone losing their breath.

When it was over, Jack held the granola bar. He looked at Leo, who was curled in a fetal position, his breathing shallow and ragged. Jack didn't feel a surge of triumph. He felt nothing. He ate the bar in three large, mechanical bites, the oats tasting of salt and copper.

The others didn't try to fight him again. They just retreated to their corners, their eyes vacant. One by one, they stopped waking up. The cold took them, or perhaps the shame did. Jack stayed awake for a long time, watching the snow drift through the open garage door, covering the bodies in a clean, white blanket. He realized that he had won the fight for the food, but in doing so, he had become the coldest thing in the room.

*** Objective Tensor Code: [OTMES_v2: M1=10.0, M4=0.0, N1=0.6, K1=0.9, TI=92.0, theta=180°]