Astal wakes up in an empty wasteland. It's a dark night, and the world around him is dead and desolate, with not a single living soul in sight. He is covered in burning debris from an escape pod, and scattered around him are the bodies of others dead, cursed, and burned by the wreckage. His head throbs with pain, and his memory is a blur.
"Where am I? What happened?" he mutters, struggling to make sense of his surroundings.
He finally pushes himself to his feet, his eyes scanning the desolate landscape.
He stumbles through the barren landscape, his every step weighed down by the crushing uncertainty of survival. His eyes scan the horizon, searching for any sign of hope, any shelter from the harsh elements. In the distance, a faint outline of a town flickers in the haze, its silhouette offering the slightest glimmer of possibility.
His hands tighten around the few meager possessions left to him: the Vira Shards tucked securely in his back pocket, their faint glow a small comfort in the overwhelming darkness; the lighter, his only source of warmth and light, which has become as much a lifeline as it is a reminder of how fragile everything has become; and the knife, its cold steel an unspoken promise of protection, or perhaps, the last tool he has to fend off whatever dangers lie ahead.
As he drags himself forward, a structure materializes in the distance—an abandoned power plant, its skeletal remains looming like a forgotten titan. The once-mighty building now stands silent, as if waiting for someone to breathe life back into it. Its walls, cracked and weathered by time, offer a stark contrast to the distant town, which remains shrouded in mystery and doubt.
The question lingers: does he take the risk and venture toward the power plant, with all its potential dangers and secrets? Or does he press on toward the town, uncertain of what awaits there, but desperate for the safety and answers it may hold? With nothing but his instincts to guide him, the choice weighs heavily on his mind.