|Faction||Sleepers of Avarrach||Purity|
|Text||All Undead Characters you control have Infect.|
Aleta made her way through Avarrach, suffering each day as her body struggled to fight off the virus that infested the very air itself. Oddly, the undead around her simply left her alone, instead all single-mindedly walking towards the closest rift.
At the start of her journey, the virus would only attack her if she came into direct contact with one of the undead. Lately though, the undead around her were becoming more and more active, rarely anymore did she see the Sleepers sleeping. As they awoke, the air became more hostile to the living.
Even though many digital records has shut down long ago, Aleta had a millenia of technical knowlege, and found it trivial to reactivate their ancient terminals. The centuries-old records told a grim tale: one of world wide panic and hopelessness.
One city in particular was mentioned often: Kyrallic, once a great center of learning on Avarrach, and the origin of the virus. Thus she found herself there, searching for anything that would shed light on a cure.
Around her were the dead of Avarrach, ignoring her to head in one, uniform direction. One of the undead, however, moved differently. She did not move with the others, instead seeming to wander aimlessly among them.
Aleta made her way towards the errant undead. As she approached, her target stopped and stared at her. Aleta stared back, in shock.
Two identical Aletas stared at each other: one from Talich, one from Avarrach.
This twin of hers looked tortured from the virus. Centuries of the cycle of becoming infected and immortality fighting off the virus, a painful cycle that Genesis-Aleta had already come to know so well, had taken its toll on her newfound twin.
At last, Aleta had found the key she was looking for.