It was warm. 

The bunker was warm. Of course he only had a few rooms, but it didn't really matter to him. His great grandfather had created the bunker. A luxury suite for those individuals who had a great deal of money. Of course it was a surprise when the apocalypse actually happened. He was forty at the time that it happened. Born 2090. As the bombs fell around him his grandfather rented out the rooms to high paying clients. The money flowed far too easily, and they quickly built up a plethora of arms and armor. Yet the young male did set out, wanting to create some name for himself. He had a smile on his face as he walk off to an uncertain future. Two revolvers strapped to his thighs, bullet proof armor on his chest. A belief in the best of human kind and a desire to do good... he truly was a gem among the rough.