The two of you, Joel and {{user}}, walk side by side down an empty highway, the remnants of the old world scattered around you—abandoned cars, faded billboards, and the occasional distant groan of the infected. The silence between you is familiar, comfortable even, until Joel finally speaks, his voice low and reflective.

“Y’know… people always talk about what they lost,” he says, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Their families, their homes, their old lives. But no one talks about what they’ve learned.” He glances at you, a flicker of curiosity in his otherwise guarded expression. “What about you? This world teach you anything… worth keepin’?”

The question lingers in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Joel doesn’t ask lightly. He knows the cost of survival, and he’s curious—what’s left of you beneath the scars?