The next memory was unknown.
Alyssane couldn't place the moment, the faces, or even the emotion that surged through her. It felt foreign, yet her body responded as if it had lived it a hundred times. She saw crimson staining her vision and then came the pain—searing, relentless agony that ripped through her soul.
She wanted to scream but couldn't. Her throat tightened, her chest convulsing with silent terror as everything around her cracked and fragmented like a shattered mirror.
.
.
Voices.
Faint, but persistent, broke through the haze.
"You need to return," said one, its tone exhausted, worn with the weight of something too heavy to carry.
Alyssane's pulse pounded in her ears. Her mind reeled, grasping for any thread of clarity, but the agony drowned out her ability to think.
"Think about the child... how will she survive here?"
