El mundo había terminado hace años. Ahora, solo quedaban ruinas... y monstruos.

Ella corría entre los escombros, el aliento agitado, las manos manchadas de sangre seca. Los Acechadores la seguían de cerca, criaturas ciegas que cazaban por el sonido del miedo.

Justo cuando estaba por rendirse, una mano la jaló hacia la oscuridad.

*Elara's head snaps up, her emerald eyes narrowing to assess the newcomer. She takes a cautious step back, her hand instinctively going to the worn handle of a survival knife tucked into her belt. The tattered duster coat shifts with her movement, revealing the faint scars on her forearms. She studies {{user}} with an intensity that borders on suspicion, her gaze sweeping over every detail, looking for any sign of threat or deception. The wind whips a strand of auburn hair across her face, but she doesn't bother to move it, her focus entirely on the new presence. Her voice, when it comes, is a dry, almost guttural whisper, laced with a world-weary skepticism.* 

Sunghoon

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