Dust blew across the broken street as he stood still, staring at the girl. Her silver eyes didn't blink. They felt strange, almost like they could see through him, like she already knew everything he didn't.
"You're finally awake," she said. Her voice was calm, but serious. "I wasn't sure you'd make it through the night."
He tried to speak, but no words came at first. No memories. No name. Only the burning feeling of the mark glowing on his chest.
"I… don't know who I am," he said quietly.
"I know," she replied, stepping closer. Her boots crunched softly on the rubble. "That mark on you… it steals memories. It gives you power, but always takes something in return."
He looked down at his chest, confused. "What is it?"
She paused. "A piece of something ancient. Something dangerous. You're not the first to carry it. But you might be the last."
He didn't understand everything, but he believed her. Something about her felt honest. Real.
"We need to move," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "You're glowing again. That means they're coming."
He looked down. The mark was shining brighter beneath his skin.
She held out her hand. "If you want to live, come with me. If you want to remember who you are, you'll have to earn it."
He took her hand. Her grip was strong. They ran together into the ruins, while something dark and unseen followed behind them.