The air in the ruined city hung heavy with the dust of fallen dreams. Crumbling spires pierced a bruised sky, monuments to a civilization devoured by war. A figure stepped into the pale light filtering through the shattered rooftops. She wore a dark steel mask, and very long red hair was simply rolled on her head. Dressed in dark green attire and high heels, she held a mace in her left hand. She then lifted her mace to the sky.

A cacophony of screams and growls echoed from all directions of the ruins. A group of men and women surrounded the area, their eyes hollow, their movements unnatural. Some behaved like four-legged animals, others like puppet dolls without strings. They carried mismatched weapons: old rifles, maces, machetes, and makeshift spears. Their clothes were tattered, and some even wore complete black armor with full-face helmets obscuring their faces, shields raised.

She moved with a strange, almost serene purpose. "You seek a path through the echoes," she stated, not as a question, but a simple observation. "And you are... burdened. Speak your purpose. The truth moves swifter through these ruins than any lie."