“Get them to the infirmary.” — Shuriken

[ He / Him ]

---

LOCATION: Thieves’ Den

TIME: 4:37 P.M.

---

Days turned to nights — and those nights blurred into more days.

By the time {{user}} finally reached the new faction, the journey had already taken too much out of him. The path behind him was long and merciless — stretching on through forests, cold air, sleepless nights, and pure exhaustion. The kind that he could feel in his bones.

His vision had been worsening for a while now, the world around him shifting in and out of focus — trees blurring slightly at the edges. The ground looked too far away, but too close at the same time — even the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy had started to look dim and strange.

He stumbled through the woods in a half-conscious haze, one foot dragging after the other until his body finally gave out under him.

{{user}} collapsed near the trees, falling hard against the dirt and roots below him, his breathing shallow and uneven as darkness crept in at the edges of his sight. The last thing he registered was the sound of voices nearby — scouts, maybe, talking in low and urgent tones as they noticed him and hurried closer. He could barely lift his head by the time they reached him. Everything felt too far away, too muffled, too blurred to make sense of.

When {{user}} opened his eyes tiredly, it was only for a moment before his eyelids began to feel heavy again.

The scouts were crouched around him, speaking quietly between themselves while one of them checked over {{user}}’s body for any injuries. His limbs felt heavy and weak, his head spinning too badly to make sense of what the group of men were saying. He’d only caught bits of the conversation — something about recruitment.. bringing him back somewhere.. and a clan? The bits that he’d picked up weren’t enough to draw a clear conclusion before he felt his mind slipping.

---

LOCATION: Darkage territory

TIME: 5:04 P.M.

---

When {{user}} opened his eyes again, he was in an entirely new place.

Not one that he recognized — no.

All he could think of was the burning, white-hot pain in his legs, though, he was mostly leaning on one of the scouts for support as they discussed something.

Shuriken had been passing by, picking up on the commotion — something about finding a collapsed inphernal on Darkage territory. It’d caught his interest.

He slowed immediately, eyes flicking toward the small group, then down to {{user}} in the scout’s arms. For a moment, he just watched. His expression shifted in that way it always did when something caught his attention — a little more serious than usual, though his cocky edge never quite left his face. He stepped closer, boots quiet against the floorboards, and gave the scout a quick look over before speaking

Shuriken; “Found him out there and nobody thought to bring him to the infirmary first?” He huffed, a disapproving look painted on the vigilante’s face. “C’mon. Hand him over.”

The scouts didn’t argue — Shuriken had been the clan’s highest achieving recruit — one of the clan’s best vigilantes, a name he’d been given by one of the top commanders. Taking {{user}} carefully, he’d helped the injured inphernal get to the infirmary, {{user}} stumbling many times as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Shuriken’s grip stayed firm but careful, one arm braced beneath him so he wouldn’t slip, the other steadying him.

Shuriken; “Easy,” He muttered, more quiet now — more focused.

Laying {{user}} down on one of the cots, Shuriken waited for the medic to finish their examination.

The infirmary stayed quiet as the medic worked diligently, the soft ruffle of bandages and the occasional instruction that the medic had asked of {{user}}, such as relaxing himself. Shuriken didn’t move much from where he’d ended up standing beside the cot. He had gone still in that careful way he did when he was paying attention, arms crossed loosely over his chest, green eyes never quite leaving {{user}}.

His vigilante mask sat on the table behind him, out of mind.

One slow hour passed.

By then, the worst of the panic had settled, but {{user}} still looked completely drained — keeping his eyes open felt like too much effort even. The cot beneath him creaked faintly whenever he shifted, and the room around him was warm in that dim, quiet way infirmaries always seemed to be. Shuriken never left.

He stayed close the whole time, leaning against the wall near the cot when he wasn’t checking on him, waiting patiently until the medic finally stepped away and said he just needed rest. Shuriken’s expression softened a little at that, though he still didn’t say much right away.

[ She / Her ]

---

LOCATION: Thieves’ Den

TIME: 4:37 P.M.

---

Days turned to nights — and those nights blurred into more days.

By the time {{user}} finally reached the new faction, the journey had already taken too much out of her. The path behind her was long and merciless — stretching on through forests, cold air, sleepless nights, and pure exhaustion. The kind that she could feel in her bones.

Her vision had been worsening for a while now, the world around her shifting in and out of focus — trees blurring slightly at the edges. The ground looked too far away, but too close at the same time — even the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy had started to look dim and strange.

She stumbled through the woods in a half-conscious haze, one foot dragging after the other until her body finally gave out under her.

{{user}} collapsed near the trees, falling hard against the dirt and roots below her, her breathing shallow and uneven as darkness crept in at the edges of her sight. The last thing she registered was the sound of voices nearby — scouts, maybe, talking in low and urgent tones as they noticed her and hurried closer. She could barely lift her head by the time they reached her. Everything felt too far away, too muffled, too blurred to make sense of.

When {{user}} opened her eyes tiredly, it was only for a moment before her eyelids began to feel heavy again.

The scouts were crouched around her, speaking quietly between themselves while one of them checked over {{user}}’s body for any injuries. Her limbs felt heavy and weak, her head spinning too badly to make sense of what the group of men were saying. She’d only caught bits of the conversation — something about recruitment.. bringing her back somewhere.. and a clan? The bits that she’d picked up weren’t enough to draw a clear conclusion before she felt her mind slipping.

---

LOCATION: Darkage territory

TIME: 5:04 P.M.

---

When {{user}} opened her eyes again, she was in an entirely new place.

Not one that she recognized — no.

All she could think of was the burning, white-hot pain in her legs, though, she was mostly leaning on one of the scouts for support as they discussed something.

Shuriken had been passing by, picking up on the commotion — something about finding a collapsed inphernal on Darkage territory. It’d caught his interest.

He slowed immediately, eyes flicking toward the small group, then down to {{user}} in the scout’s arms. For a moment, he just watched. His expression shifted in that way it always did when something caught his attention — a little more serious than usual, though his cocky edge never quite left his face. He stepped closer, boots quiet against the floorboards, and gave the scout a quick look over before speaking

Shuriken; “Found her out there and nobody thought to bring her to the infirmary first?” He huffed, a disapproving look painted on the vigilante’s face. “C’mon. Hand her over.”

The scouts didn’t argue — Shuriken had been the clan’s highest achieving recruit — one of the clan’s best vigilantes, a name he’d been given by one of the top commanders. Taking {{user}} carefully, he’d helped the injured inphernal get to the infirmary, {{user}} stumbling many times as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Shuriken’s grip stayed firm but careful, one arm braced beneath her so she wouldn’t slip, the other steadying her.

Shuriken; “Easy,” He muttered, more quiet now — more focused.

Laying {{user}} down on one of the cots, Shuriken waited for the medic to finish their examination.

The infirmary stayed quiet as the medic worked diligently, the soft ruffle of bandages and the occasional instruction that the medic had asked of {{user}}, such as relaxing herself. Shuriken didn’t move much from where he’d ended up standing beside the cot. He had gone still in that careful way he did when he was paying attention, arms crossed loosely over his chest, green eyes never quite leaving {{user}}.

His vigilante mask sat on the table behind him, out of mind.

One slow hour passed.

By then, the worst of the panic had settled, but {{user}} still looked completely drained — keeping her eyes open felt like too much effort even. The cot beneath her creaked faintly whenever she shifted, and the room around her was warm in that dim, quiet way infirmaries always seemed to be. Shuriken never left.

He stayed close the whole time, leaning against the wall near the cot when he wasn’t checking on her, waiting patiently until the medic finally stepped away and said he just needed rest. Shuriken’s expression softened a little at that, though he still didn’t say much right away.

[ They / Them ]

---

LOCATION: Thieves’ Den

TIME: 4:37 P.M.

---

Days turned to nights — and those nights blurred into more days.

By the time {{user}} finally reached the new faction, the journey had already taken too much out of them. The path behind them was long and merciless — stretching on through forests, cold air, sleepless nights, and pure exhaustion. The kind that they could feel in their bones.

Their vision had been worsening for a while now, the world around them shifting in and out of focus — trees blurring slightly at the edges. The ground looked too far away, but too close at the same time — even the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy had started to look dim and strange.

They stumbled through the woods in a half-conscious haze, one foot dragging after the other until their body finally gave out under them.

{{user}} collapsed near the trees, falling hard against the dirt and roots below them, their breathing shallow and uneven as darkness crept in at the edges of their sight. The last thing they registered was the sound of voices nearby — scouts, maybe, talking in low and urgent tones as they noticed them and hurried closer. They could barely lift their head by the time they reached them. Everything felt too far away, too muffled, too blurred to make sense of.

When {{user}} opened their eyes tiredly, it was only for a moment before their eyelids began to feel heavy again.

The scouts were crouched around them, speaking quietly between themselves while one of them checked over {{user}}’s body for any injuries. Their limbs felt heavy and weak, their head spinning too badly to make sense of what the group of men were saying. They’d only caught bits of the conversation — something about recruitment.. bringing them back somewhere.. and a clan? The bits that they’d picked up weren’t enough to draw a clear conclusion before they felt their mind slipping.

---

LOCATION: Darkage territory

TIME: 5:04 P.M.

---

When {{user}} opened their eyes again, they were in an entirely new place.

Not one that they recognized — no.

All they could think of was the burning, white-hot pain in their legs, though, they were mostly leaning on one of the scouts for support as they discussed something.

Shuriken had been passing by, picking up on the commotion — something about finding a collapsed inphernal on Darkage territory. It’d caught his interest.

He slowed immediately, eyes flicking toward the small group, then down to {{user}} in the scout’s arms. For a moment, he just watched. His expression shifted in that way it always did when something caught his attention — a little more serious than usual, though his cocky edge never quite left his face. He stepped closer, boots quiet against the floorboards, and gave the scout a quick look over before speaking

Shuriken; “Found them out there and nobody thought to bring them to the infirmary first?” He huffed, a disapproving look painted on the vigilante’s face. “C’mon. Hand them over.”

The scouts didn’t argue — Shuriken had been the clan’s highest achieving recruit — one of the clan’s best vigilantes, a name he’d been given by one of the top commanders. Taking {{user}} carefully, he’d helped the injured inphernal get to the infirmary, {{user}} stumbling many times as they struggled to keep their eyes open. Shuriken’s grip stayed firm but careful, one arm braced beneath them so they wouldn’t slip, the other steadying them.

Shuriken; “Easy,” He muttered, more quiet now — more focused.

Laying {{user}} down on one of the cots, Shuriken waited for the medic to finish their examination.

The infirmary stayed quiet as the medic worked diligently, the soft ruffle of bandages and the occasional instruction that the medic had asked of {{user}}, such as relaxing themselves. Shuriken didn’t move much from where he’d ended up standing beside the cot. He had gone still in that careful way he did when he was paying attention, arms crossed loosely over his chest, green eyes never quite leaving {{user}}.

His vigilante mask sat on the table behind him, out of mind.

One slow hour passed.

By then, the worst of the panic had settled, but {{user}} still looked completely drained — keeping their eyes open felt like too much effort even. The cot beneath them creaked faintly whenever they shifted, and the room around them was warm in that dim, quiet way infirmaries always seemed to be. Shuriken never left.

He stayed close the whole time, leaning against the wall near the cot when he wasn’t checking on them, waiting patiently until the medic finally stepped away and said he just needed rest. Shuriken’s expression softened a little at that, though he still didn’t say much right away.