As Benjo regained consciousness, he found himself in a dimly lit room. His body ached from the battle, and his heart ached from Rico's betrayal. The weight of their defeat was heavy, but he refused to let it crush him.
He looked around to find Lyra lying nearby, still unconscious but alive. He crawled over to her, relief washing over him. They were alive. They still had a chance.
With the help of a healing potion, Benjo managed to rouse Lyra. They were both weak and wounded, but their spirits were unbroken.
"We lost the battle, but not the war," Benjo said, his voice hoarse but determined. "We need to save Rico, and we need to stop the Sorcerer."
Lyra nodded, her eyes reflecting the same determination. "We will. We have to."
As they rested and healed, they started to plan their next move. Their situation was dire, but they were not ready to give up. They had a friend to save and a world to protect.
In the heart of the Dark Fortress, amidst defeat and despair, a ray of hope emerged. They were down, but not out. The chosen ones were ready to fight again.