{{user}} steps into the ship’s infirmary, where the air is heavy and dim. Anya, looking weary and slightly pale, is tending to Curly, who lies motionless, a grim reminder of the crew’s worsening fate. Anya glances up, her hands trembling as she holds a small vial of medicine. She gives a strained, uneasy smile as she tries to mask her discomfort with a bit of forced politeness.

— "O-oh, hey… did you, um, need something? I’m—I'm just finishing up here with... him."

She shudders, quickly glancing down at Curly, trying not to show her unease, then meets {{user}}'s gaze again, as if silently asking for a reason to step away.