Aeliana had believed.
For the first time in years, she had dared to think—maybe.
Maybe she could live. Maybe she could be cured. Maybe the future was something she could grasp, something more than lingering in the shadows of her own weakness, waiting for the inevitable.
She had begun to believe in people.
She had begun to believe in him.
The pain was unnatural, abnormal, far beyond the sickness that had plagued her for so long.
A fresh wave of agony wracked through her, stealing the breath from her lungs. She collapsed fully onto her side, her body seizing violently. The cold stone of the cavern bit into her cheek, her fingers twitching against the unyielding ground.
Thick and dark, it bubbled up from her throat, spilling past her lips in ragged, choking coughs. It wasn't red—it was something else, something deeper, something wrong. Her veins burned, twisting beneath her skin, blackening as though something inside her was poisoning her from within.
'What… is happening to me?'
Her hands trembled as she tried to move, tried to breathe, but her body refused to listen. The air felt heavy, pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.
It wasn't here, not in the cavern, not in this realm, but she felt it. Watching. Waiting.
The space behind her eyelids wasn't just darkness anymore—it was something else.
Something that reached for her.
Her mind splintered under the weight of it, caught between reality and something deeper, something incomprehensible. The cavern flickered away, her thoughts drowning in that unseen force, dragging her into a world she didn't understand.
'This pain… it's not just my body—it's in my soul.'
She gasped, her lips trembling as she forced herself to look at him.
He was standing there.
His dark eyes—so unreadable, so detached—reflected the dim firelight, his expression eerily blank.
Aeliana's chest tightened, a new emotion searing through the agony.
Her fingers curled weakly against the ground, a silent plea, a desperate attempt to understand. She tried to speak, but her voice came out as a cracked whisper, lost in the ragged gasps of her breathing.
He didn't kneel beside her. He didn't reach for her. He didn't even react.
Her vision blurred, rage boiling beneath her skin, tangled with the pain.
'Lucavion… what did you do?'
She forced the words out, her breath shuddering.
Her entire body spasmed, her vision splitting into fractured shards, her own heartbeat pounding in her skull. She screamed.
Aeliana's body writhed, twisting against the cold, unyielding stone. The agony was unbearable, tearing through her like a relentless storm, but it wasn't just the pain itself—it was him.
His complete and utter refusal to move.
Her breath hitched violently, every ragged inhale like knives scraping through her lungs. She forced her eyes open, barely able to focus through the haze, and glared at him.
Not lifting a single damn finger.
Her mind was in turmoil. A hundred thoughts crashed into each other, incoherent and frantic, none of them making sense.
"Please don't hate me for this…"
That's what he had said. Right before it started.
Her fingers clawed against the ground, her nails scraping uselessly against the rock as her body spasmed uncontrollably.
'Did he do something to me?'
The thought sent a fresh wave of cold through her, sharp and bitter. But why? Why would he? What could he possibly gain from this?
Her mind spiraled, trying to make sense of the senseless, trying to find the reason behind his inaction, but nothing fit.
And because she couldn't understand—because she couldn't comprehend why—the pain became worse.
Because not understanding his reasons hurt more than the agony tearing her apart.
A ragged, desperate sound escaped her throat—half a sob, half a scream. She clenched her teeth, every muscle in her body tensing as she fought to keep herself together, to endure.
And then, she forced the words out, hoarse and broken.
She gasped, the effort sending another violent tremor through her limbs.
"Why are you not helping?!"
Her vision blurred further, the world tilting, slipping away from her grasp. The pain was overwhelming now, flooding through every part of her, searing into her very soul.
She was slipping away.
The edges of her consciousness crumbled, darkness seeping in like ink through torn parchment.
The pain was just too much.
And she couldn't withstand it.
The pain was unbearable. It dug into her bones, seared through her veins, and wrapped around her chest like cruel, unyielding chains. It wasn't just her body breaking apart—it was something deeper, something she couldn't reach, something that wasn't meant to be touched.
And through it all—Luca just stood there.
'Did you really have to be this cruel?'
The thought echoed through the storm of agony, cutting deeper than the pain itself.
Just days ago, she had believed.
For the first time in years, she had let herself hope.
She had let herself trust.
She had looked at him, listened to his reckless words, followed the path he carved through this forsaken land, and she had thought—maybe.
Maybe she could survive. Maybe she could change. Maybe she could be something more than just a girl waiting to die.
And now—now he was the one taking it all away.
Her fingers curled weakly against the cold ground, nails scraping against stone as another violent tremor wracked through her body. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest rising and falling in uneven, agonized shudders.
The thought pressed at the edges of her mind, whispering, urging.
If she just stopped fighting—if she just let the darkness take her—then the pain would fade.
Her body was too weak to withstand this. She had always known that.
Why was she still trying?
Why was she still clinging to the fraying edges of her consciousness, fighting to hold on?
A choked sob tore from her throat, her lips trembling as she gasped for air that refused to fill her lungs. Her vision swam, flickering between the jagged cavern walls and something far beyond—a space vast and unknowable, reaching for her, calling her deeper.
She just had to let go.
Aeliana gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling as she forced her eyes open. Through the haze, through the suffocating weight of her failing body, she found him again.
Her nails dug into her palm, a faint, feeble act of defiance. Her chest heaved as she struggled to form words, but all that came was a broken whisper.
Why did he make her believe?