We woke in silence, surrounded by broken shards of crystal glowing faintly in the dirt.
The girl sat up, rubbing her temple. "What… what did you do?"
"I absorbed it," I muttered. My chest still burned, but my blade hummed with a strange new energy.
She frowned. "You're insane."
Before I could answer, faint figures emerged from the wasteland—people. Survivors. Their clothes were tattered, eyes hollow, but they stared at us with reverence.
One knelt. "The Bearers… the Chosen… you answered the call."
I exchanged a glance with the girl. Chosen? What did that mean?
The leader stepped forward—a scarred man with a crude spear. "You two are the first Bearers we've seen in years. Come. The settlement will shelter you."
For the first time since I woke in this nightmare, I realized: NPCs weren't just scripted background characters anymore. They were alive.