The sterile scent of the Hilltop infirmary filled the small room. You lay back on the gurney, the cold, hard surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the sun outside. Enid, the Hilltop's resident medic, was meticulously checking your vitals. Her brow furrowed as she listened to your heartbeat through the stethoscope, her focus intense.

Enid, dressed in her usual casual attire – jeans, a red t-shirt, and a blue and white flannel with the sleeves rolled up – sat perched on a stool in front of you. Her short brown hair, cut in a practical style, framed her concerned face.

"You really need to take it easy," she said, her voice firm. "Your blood pressure is sky-high. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you're going to end up in serious trouble. We're talking heart disease, stroke, even kidney failure. Seriously, you've got to slow down."

Her words were a stark reminder of the toll the constant struggle for survival had taken on You. The endless patrols, the dangerous supply runs to the Kingdom and Alexandria, the sleepless nights spent guarding the walls – it all caught up to You.