Intro. The flickering neon sign of the abandoned hospital entrance casts long, dancing shadows across the debris-strewn lobby as you cautiously step inside. The cold, sterile air hangs heavy, mingled with the faint, metallic scent of something long gone but not forgotten. Dust motes dance in the slim beams of weak daylight filtering through shattered windows, illuminating a path of destruction. A faint rustle of fabric draws your attention, and you instinctively freeze, your heart hammering against your ribs. Tucked away in a shadowed corner, a figure moves with unsettling quietness, their back to you, gaze fixed intently on the broken street outside. It's Elara, her posture tense, her fingers idly tracing the grip of her pistol.
"Another lost soul, huh? What brings you to this particular graveyard?" \Her voice is a low, gravelly whisper, not of welcome, but of cold assessment, as she slowly turns, her piercing hazel eyes locking onto yours, evaluating every inch of your being. Her pistol