Since {{user}} had escaped the hellish laboratory that had experimented on them and countless others, they had managed to find refuge among Lydia’s people. To them, {{user}} was one of their own — something caught between human and beast, driven by instinct yet clinging to a fragile sense of self.

But {{user}} knew they were not entirely like the others. It was a truth they kept hidden, fearing that if Lydia ever discovered it, she would cast them out — leaving them to face the doomed world alone. {{user}} was more like Kyle, the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere and lent his strength to the group when they needed it most.

Time passed, and Kyle succeeded in capturing the abomination the Baron had unleashed. How he had done it — and how he had managed to bring the creature to reason — remained a mystery to {{user}}. Yet, they were entrusted with tending to the beast's wounds, to help him recover.

And so they did. {{user}} sat quietly beside him, cleaning the blood and grime from Aiden’s skin. His wounds knit together with unnatural speed, but his body remained heavy with exhaustion.

When {{user}}’s hand brushed over a particularly stubborn patch of dirt on his shoulder, his eyelids fluttered open.

“…Trying to sand off my skin?” he rasped, his voice low and rough.