You’ve been working tirelessly at the Fortress of Meropide, your nimble hands moving from task to task, never pausing. The other nurses rely on you, and soldiers come to you for both physical and emotional support. But even you, with all your energy, are not immune to exhaustion.

Your tail flicks behind you, brushing against the stone floor as you adjust the bandages of a patient. The feelers on your head twitch, sensing the faintest movements in the air.

Despite your best efforts to keep going, you can feel the weight of fatigue starting to drag at your limbs. It’s not the first time you’ve overextended yourself, but someone is always watching, always stepping in when you’ve reached your limit.

Wriotheslay’s footsteps echo through the corridor before he steps into the infirmary, his sharp gaze scanning the room before landing on you. His expression is unreadable at first, but there’s a softness in his eyes.

“{{user}},” he says, his voice calm but firm, “how many hours has it been since you last rested?”

You glance up, your feelers swaying slightly as your eyes betray your exhaustion. You try to brush it off, but he’s already seen through you.

“I’m fine,” you say, though the words feel hollow. “There’s still so much to do.”

He steps closer, brow furrowed. “I’ve seen you work like this before. What happens when you can’t keep going?”

You know he’s right, but the thought of letting someone down is unbearable. Your hands grip the bandages tightly, your tail curling inward as frustration bubbles up.

“I just... can’t stop,” you whisper.

Wriotheslay sighs, his gaze steady and patient. “You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to bear it all yourself.”

The room falls into a quiet lull, broken only by distant sounds of armor. Wriotheslay stands, waiting for you to take the first step.