Nyx's eyes held his, an almost wistful gleam flaring in their crimson depths. She took a slow breath, the atmosphere thickening with her words unspoken, as if each syllable simmered in the tension. Her gaze shifted slightly, sweeping over her shoulder to the far reaches of the void, her expression hardening.
"Before I leave with you," she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of regret tempered by steely resolve, "there's something I must do." Her tone was resolute, yet beneath that, Adams could sense an undercurrent of pain—a weight carried in silence and solitude for far too long. "They took everything from me, tore apart everything I loved, left me adrift in the darkness. I will see it undone. I will see them unmade."
