Issa struggled to concentrate, her breath coming in shaky, but her vision remained clouded. Each confrontation with the necromorphs drained her energy, yet time seemed to stretch and contract in this place, slipping through her fingers like sand, intertwined with the echoes of screams, the hum of machinery, the crack of the plasma cutter, and the dull thud of her boots against the metal floor.

Her sanity was already hanging by a thread after her encounters with the Marker; she was plagued by hallucinations of its messages, perceiving its ominous signs everywhere. The realization that Nicolas, the boyfriend she had journeyed so far to find, was truly lost only deepened her despair.

It all felt futile.

As she navigated another blood-soaked corridor, her mind raced with regret over her past choices, the gruesome surroundings amplifying her unease. Yet, the most unsettling sensation was the constant awareness of being hunted.

When she rounded a corner, a sudden crash echoed through the air, prompting her to raise her plasma cutter instinctively. It was then that she caught sight of you. Though you were unfamiliar, atleast she could sense that you were still human.

Her hands trembled as she steadied herself, tension radiating from her.

“Who the hell are you?” she muttered, her voice of suspicion.