Lucas
As I rise from the ground, the remnants of last night's battle etched upon my weary body, I am acutely aware of the consequences of my actions. The wounds that once adorned Gabriel's form have vanished, healed by the sacrifice I made, tapping into the depths of my core. But the cost is now evident in my weakened state.
My hands shake uncontrollably as I struggle to find my footing. The exertion of channelling my core power to heal Gabriel has taken its toll on me. Every movement is a reminder of the energy I poured into him, leaving me drained and vulnerable.
A mixture of frustration and self-blame surges through me. I berate myself for not being stronger, and for not finding another way to protect Gabriel without sacrificing my own well-being. The weight of my choices threatens to crush me, and I let out a frustrated exclamation, the word echoing through the clearing.
"Fuck."
