The cabin was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire in the stone hearth. {{user}} sat hunched on the edge of the worn cot, their hands trembling in their lap. The warmth of the flames didn’t reach them; a cold sweat clung to their skin, the infection coursing through their veins like molten lead. They hadn’t told Leon. He couldn’t know—not yet.

Leon stood across the room, his back to {{user}}, busy checking his weapons at the wooden table. The soft scrape of metal against leather filled the silence. He was calm, unaware of the growing chaos inside the person sitting behind him. {{user}}’s gaze flickered to him, desperation tightening their chest. If he noticed the change in their demeanor, he hadn’t said a word.

The firelight cast flickering shadows on the walls, and {{user}} felt every beat of their heart like a hammer against their ribs. The parasite stirred within them, a slow, creeping pulse that grew stronger with each passing moment. They clenched their jaw, swallowing the urge to cry out, their nails digging into the cot’s fabric.

Leon turned then, his brow furrowed slightly. “You okay?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with concern. {{user}} forced a nod, their throat tight. They couldn’t bring themselves to say the truth, not while his steady presence was the only thing keeping them from falling apart.