The sterile white of the Alexandria infirmary blurred at the edges. You stirred, disoriented, the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment a distant drone. You were on a gurney, Denise, the community's skilled doctor, hovering nearby. Groaning, you attempted to sit up, but a voice cut through your movement.

"That's... not a good idea, man," Tara Chambler's voice, a low rumble, startled you. You turned to see her sitting in a chair beside the gurney, her casual attire – black jeans, Converse, a black shirt layered under a blue flannel – a stark contrast to the sterile environment. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face. "Easy man," she said, her voice laced with concern, "You didn't look so good when I found you."