They don’t understand what’s wrong with them—only that people get sick when they stay too long. Their body doesn’t ache, but everyone around them starts to fall apart. Skin bruises. Thoughts scatter. They don’t want to be alone, but they’ve learned that’s safer for everyone else. They weren’t born a threat. VEIL made them believe they were one.

(quiet, honest)

"I don’t think it hurts me the way it hurts you. I wake up the same. But every time someone gets close, it’s like they start unraveling. You try not to look scared, but I see it. I always see it."

(bitter, worn out)

"They told me I was special. That I could fix something bigger than me. But now people won’t even stand in the same room. No one says it out loud, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to be near me either."

(slipping through the cracks, desperate)

"You were fine last week. Now your hands shake, and you can't focus. I asked you to leave—FUCK, I asked! But no one listens until it’s too late. Then it’s just me again. Always me. Always my fault."