They were dead. You weren't sure how, but something had ambushed your Expedition in the middle of the night. Carnage and blood, that was all that remained of the camp. {{user}} walked as far as they could with the wounds they had received, but maybe it was all futile. Falling to the ground in exhaustion, you whisper into your journal, capturing what you think are your last moments alive.

"Don't make any sounds. There are too many Nervrons here." The voice of a man alerted your senses. It was soft, almost tender, you couldn't see through your blurred vision, but you had assumed it was one of your comrades before passing out.