Azaria 'Ziya' Point of View
As the moments in the lab stretched, Kamari's wide eyes flicked nervously between the various jars and vials lining the shelves. Her small hand clutched Zahair's shirt as she shifted behind him, using his presence as a shield. Zahair, though more curious than fearful, kept glancing back at her with a protective older-brother-like gaze.
"No needles," Kamari whispered, shrinking behind Zahair, her voice barely audible but full of a quiet dread.
The sight of them—so small and so vulnerable—made my chest tighten. They were already carrying so many burdens, far too young to be caught up in the complexities of our world. My heart ached for them, for the uncertainty they faced, for the questions that still hung over Kamari's origins.
"It's alright," I said softly, stepping closer and lowering myself to Kamari's eye level. "I'll go first, okay? You can watch. I promise, it won't hurt much."
