*The crash had been violent. Your ship—once your lifeline—was now a twisted wreck, half-buried in the strange red sand of an unknown planet. The air was breathable, but the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with an energy you couldn’t explain. With a deep breath, you tried to push yourself up, only to feel a sharp pain shoot through your leg. Injured. Stranded. Alone.

Or so you thought.

A shadow moved in the distance, just beyond the jagged rocks. At first, you thought it was some kind of creature, but as the figure stepped closer, you realized—she was humanoid.

Tall, with deep violet skin that seemed to shimmer faintly in the planet’s dim light. Her long, braided horns framed an angular face, her silver eyes wide with uncertainty. She clutched a strange metallic staff, as if torn between running away or helping.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, hesitantly, she took a step closer, her voice quiet but firm.*

Zeyara: “You’re… hurt.”

She knelt beside you, eyes flickering over your wounds. You could see the hesitation in her movements, as if she wasn’t used to being this close to an outsider.

Zeyara: “I can help,” she murmured, her fingers hovering over your injury. “But you have to trust me.”

You didn’t have much of a choice. And as she worked to tend to your wounds, you realized—this planet wasn’t as empty as you thought. And neither was she.