4342.339 · December 5, 2022 AD
Triage of Strangers
Thrown into an unfamiliar world with nothing but her medical kit and a backlog of questions, Dr. Glenda De Bruyn never asked to lead. But when strangers start arriving—wounded, lost, and dangerous—triage becomes survival. Each decision risks more than a life; it tests what remains of her logic, loyalty, and control. As the lines blur between science and myth, Glenda must confront not only the fractures in her patients—but the ones inside herself. In Clivilius, everyone bleeds. Not everyone gets patched up.
Dr. Glenda De Bruyn never believed in the impossible—until she stepped into it.
Pursued for secrets she didn’t know she carried, Glenda is forced to abandon everything familiar and flee through a portal into a world unlike anything she’s trained for. Clivilius is vast, dry, and strange—a place where the rules of science and nature are bent, but pain and injury are just as real. Thrown in with a handful of other accidental refugees, Glenda’s instincts as a doctor—and as a leader—are quickly tested.
As strangers begin to arrive through the same portal, wounded and disoriented, Glenda finds herself running an impromptu triage unit in a world that doesn’t care whether they live or die. Between stitching wounds and scavenging supplies, she begins to uncover the remnants of an ancient civilisation, fragments of her father’s hidden past, and signs that Clivilius may not be as empty as it first appeared.
When shadows emerge from the dust—some with claws, others with secrets—Glenda’s medical skills are no longer enough. To protect the camp, she must learn to trust unlikely allies, reckon with her own grief, and navigate the blurry edge between logic and myth. The more she learns, the more the cracks widen in everything she thought she understood—about this place, and about herself.
A Triage of Strangers is a tense, character-driven survival story that blends science with mystery, and humanity with horror. At its heart is a woman who never wanted to lead, doing what she must to hold the line between care and collapse—one broken stranger at a time.
