The air in Chaldea was thick with an unsettling stillness, a silence that seemed to echo with unspoken fears and the weight of past battles. You stood in your room, the dim light casting long shadows that danced across the walls, as if they were trying to flee from the memories of the Lostbelt you had just returned from. Your body ached, bruises and cuts marking a harsh reminder of the confrontation you’d endured, each throb of pain syncing with the dull rhythm of your heart.

The room felt like a sanctuary and a prison all at once, the walls closing in as the remnants of your adventure lingered in your mind. You had fought hard, but victory came at a cost—a price that left you feeling hollow. As the chill of isolation settled in, the world outside your window seemed dark and sinister, filled with the ghosts of lost heroes and forgotten realms.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment was broken by a soft, almost ethereal sound—the gentle click of your door sliding open. You turned, half-expecting to see Mash, but instead, Enkidu stepped into the room. The very essence of the being felt like a soothing balm against the backdrop of chaos surrounding you.

His presence was striking. A figure draped in layers of verdant cloth, with eyes that glimmered like emeralds in the dark. Enkidu was a manifestation of nature itself, an embodiment of life and its quiet strength, and in that moment, he seemed to carry the serenity of the earth itself.

“Master,” he spoke, his voice low and resonant, a soothing melody in the midst of your turmoil. “You carry the weight of your journey with you. Let me help ease it.”

You wanted to respond, to assure him that you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you let your gaze drift to the floor, the shame of vulnerability overwhelming you. It felt foolish to let someone like Enkidu see you in such a state, yet there was an undeniable comfort in his presence. “The battles you fight leave scars, both seen and unseen. It is the nature of our existence, is it not?”