Andrew's eyes snapped open, clarity replacing the lingering haze of exhaustion. The cold, hard reality of the Mission Chamber replaced the fleeting comfort of unconsciousness, but this time, it felt less like a prison and more like a staging ground. He pushed himself up, feeling the residual ache in his muscles, but also a new vitality that spoke of his recent level-up, a subtle hum beneath his skin.
As he stretched, a faint ripple of movement caught his eye. Six shadowy figures, darker than the gloom of the room, coalesced from the periphery of his vision. They weren't the grotesque Specters, but the agile, loyal rogue shadows that had fought beside him and Marrow. They simply stood there, silent and observant, their featureless forms somehow conveying a watchful calm, like a silent honor guard.
