"...Lucain… you're awake?"
The words floated through the dimly lit room like a fragile whisper, barely louder than a breeze. But to Lucain, they struck like a blade.
He stopped mid-step.
For a moment, he didn't turn. His back remained to her. The shadows danced across the floor from the faint glow of the system interface beside him.
What's the point?
The thought whispered in his mind. Just walk away. There's no need to answer. Not anymore.
But… that wasn't right either.
His fingers twitched slightly. A sigh escaped him long, weary, carved from the weight of too many memories. Slowly, he turned around.
Cassandra was sitting up straight, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face was pale, her hair a mess of unkempt strands falling across her face. Her confusion was raw and visible, like someone who had just been pulled from a bad dream only to find that reality was worse.
