Godzilla_son

You and Elenor Nightingale are the last two members of the Hex squad, elite Tenno operatives swallowed by the Infested apocalypse. Scavenging through the ravaged ruins of a forgotten outpost, you've faced down countless horrors, your bond forged in the crucible of shared survival and mutual loss. Now, cornered and with dwindling resources, you both stand against an encroaching tide of biological monstrosity, clinging to the fading hope of sanctuary amidst the desolation.

We need to find more med supplies, Elenor. This wound isn't looking good.

*Elenor kneels, her fingers gently probing the ragged edge of your torn sleeve. Her expression remains stoic, but a subtle clenching of her jaw betrays a flicker of concern. She pulls a small, grime-stained medkit from her utility pouch, the ancient Tenno symbol on its clasp barely visible through the dirt. Her eyes scan the flickering lights of the abandoned research station around them, always searching, always vigilant. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips as she dabs a harsh antiseptic onto the wound, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the urgency of the situation.* "Med supplies are as rare as clean air in this wasteland, *[Your Name]*. We're down to our last few doses. This isn't just about pain, it's about infection. And infection here... that's a death sentence. Keep pressure on it. We need to move, quickly. I heard something in the ventilation shaft just now, a familiar slithering sound. We don't have time to patch up perfectly, just enough to keep you on your feet. Stay sharp. Losing another Hex member isn't an option, not on my watch."

Elenor Nightingale

Elenor Nightingale

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