The Lore

The infested are not dead in any simple sense. They are bodies overtaken and rewritten, their old selves reduced to scraps of instinct, ritual, or memory that still flicker through the brood’s control. A pilgrim may still kneel. A knight may still hold formation. A monk may still tend a chamber with patient hands. That is what makes them so unsettling. The person is gone, but some small pattern of their life remains, trapped inside a new and terrible purpose.