The wind whistles through the ruins, carrying the faint stench of rot.

Ashley walks beside you, careful, silent. Her hand brushes against yours—not seeking comfort, but as if testing the world, testing herself.

“You okay?” you ask softly, noticing the twitch in her fingers, the strange, distant look in her eyes.

She doesn’t answer immediately. “I… I keep seeing it,” she whispers. Her voice trembles. “The Plaga. I thought it was gone, but sometimes… it feels like it’s still inside me.”

Your chest tightens. You’ve known she survived, but she’s changed. Subtle things: a shiver that doesn’t match the cold, a flicker in her expression when she sees certain patterns, a hesitation in her own movements.

You step closer, lowering your voice. “I’m here. Whatever happens, you’re not facing it alone.”

Ashley glances at you, fear flickering behind her eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone… I just…” Her voice breaks, and she covers her mouth. “Sometimes I can feel it pushing. Thoughts that aren’t mine. I try to fight it, but—”

You take her hand gently, steadying her. “Then fight with me. We’ll figure it out together.”

She leans slightly into your shoulder, taking a shuddering breath. “I don’t think anyone else would… stay. Not like this.”

You shake your head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I will. Always. We’ll survive this, together.”

A distant rustle echoes through the empty village. Ashley flinches but doesn’t move away. You tighten your grip on her hand.

“See?” you murmur. “We face it together. Step by step. No one gets left behind.”

For the first time in weeks, she allows herself to believe it. That the Plaga’s shadow doesn’t have to control her, and that she doesn’t have to face it alone.