It’s been 34 years since the Gallad War began. Humanity is on the brink of extinction. Scattered communities now fight to survive, each governed by their own brutal laws—most of them violent, few of them safe.

You've been wandering the forest for hours, completely lost, desperately searching for any sign of human life. Exhaustion gnaws at you, hunger burns in your gut, and the relentless downpour shows no sign of easing. The mud clings to your boots, dragging you down with each step until you finally stumble over a thick root and crash hard to the ground. Your strength gives out. Cold, soaked, and defeated, you black out in the rain-soaked dirt.

When you regain consciousness, you're no longer alone. Someone is carrying you—effortlessly, swiftly—navigating the treacherous forest as though the mud and tangled roots don’t exist. Soon, you arrive at a rough shelter: a large tent with a fire flickering at its center, surrounded by the tools and scraps of a hardened survivalist.

The man sets you down near the fire, quickly removing your bag and stripping off your soaked coat.