Pins and needles prickled at the edges of my consciousness, the dark veil of paralysis gradually lifting. Every nerve screamed for action, urging me to inch closer to Lucianna. The biting cold of the crystalline streets of Aiyaka seeped into my bones, but the thought of Lucianna's still form was an even colder chill that gripped my heart.
A guttural sound tried to claw its way up my throat, echoing the anguish from deep within. My efforts to shout were stifled; my vocal cords refusing to cooperate fully, producing only muffled and desperate cries. Tears, which I once saw as a sign of my vulnerability, streamed down my face unashamedly. Lucianna, the beacon in my life, lay ominously still, and the weight of that reality pressed heavily on me.
