Lycia sat on the cold stone floor of the dim room, her back pressed against the rough walls, her body trembling from exhaustion. Her muscles aching, and the bruises that Morrigana had left on her skin pulsed with pain, a constant reminder of the pain she had just endured. But the physical pain wasn't what hurt the most. It was the emptiness she felt inside, the helplessness, and the overwhelming sense of failure.
Her mind would not stop racing, pulling her back to the beginning. To the moments that led her here, locked away in this strange, dark world. How could she have been so blind? How could she have believed that this could work? Every lie, every betrayal, replayed in her mind, like a broken record that would not stop spinning.
And then there was Morrigana, the one person responsible for the pain she was going through. Lycia's breath broke as she thought about the bitter words, the cold eyes that had watched her, trapping her in this miserable place.
Morrigana's torture had broken Lycia, tormenting her in ways that left more than just bruises on her body. This wasn't like Raven's cunning betrayals. No, this was deliberate cruelty.
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories that pushed their way forward. Her fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into her palms. How did it all go so wrong? She just wanted to protect Jack, to do something right for once. But now, here she was, locked in a room with no way out, surrounded by enemies and her only thought was how to fix this mess she had gotten herself into.
Her thoughts drifted, clawing their way back to the beginning.
"Jack!"
Her breath hitched as his face filled her mind. Frail, coughing, and fighting for every moment of life he could cling to. He has been her world for as long as she could remember. She didn't have much in life, but she had Jack, old grumpy, stubborn, kind-hearted Jack, who somehow made her feel like she mattered in a world that didn't seem to care.
She could still see him lying on the edge of his rickety bed, the mattress thin and worn, his face pale and full of pain. She remembered his trembling lips and the faint, broken words he had said, trying to sound hopeful despite it all. "Don't… don't do something foolish, kid. I'll get better," he had whispered.
But even then, they both knew it was a lie. Jack's worsening cough, his trembling hands, and the hollow look in his eyes had told her the truth. He wasn't getting better. He was dying.
The memory stabbed at her, forcing her to wrap her arms around herself as if she could shield her heart from breaking all over again. She could still picture him trying to pat her head, his arm weak but determined, the effort making him cough so hard she thought he might collapse. "Don't cry over me, kid," he'd added that night, his voice rasping. "I am tougher than I ook."
Tough. She had tried to live up to that word her whole life. Jack had taught her how to survive, how to steal without being seen, how to melt into the shadows when the world turned on you. But Jack had also taught her to always have hope, even in the smallest of ways. When the streets got too hard, he had been the one to remind her that she was not alone.
But when the medicine stopped working, when every gasp of his breath began to sound like a countdown, Lycia's hope crumbled. Lycia has stolen from merchants, guards, even rival thieves, but it wasn't enough. Every coin she earned felt like a drop in an ocean, and the weight of time pressed down on her chest like a stone.
And then Raven had appeared.
Lycia's fists clenched at the memory of her ex-lover. Of all the people to show up when she was at her lowest, why did it have to be Raven? The woman who had once made her feel alive and then torn her apart in a single night.
She remembered the sound of Raven's boots on the cobblestones outside her door, the confident knock, and the way she leaned against the doorway with that same smirk Lycia used to find charming.
"You look like you've seen better days," Raven had said, her dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Still running you into the ground for Jack, huh?"
Lycia had wanted to slam the door in her face. But Jack's cough echoed from the back room, sharp and raw, and Lycia froze.
Raven's eyes flicked past her, and the smirk softened, if only slightly.
"Let me guess," Raven had murmured.
"You're desperate. Good thing I've got just the thing to help you out."
Lycia had glared at her. "I don't need your help, Raven."
"Sure you don't," Raven had replied, brushing past her into the room as if she owned the place. "But Jack does. And we both know you'll do anything for him."
That was the cruel thing about Raven, she always knew exactly where to strike. And Lycia hated her for it.
But Raven's words had lingered. The job she proposed, a heist in a mansion that belonged to someone called Cove, had sounded like madness. Stealing from a man like that was a death sentence. Lycia had tried to refuse, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jack, his body frail and his breaths shallow. The memory of him saying, "Don't... don't do something foolish," haunted her. But what else could she do?
"I'll get better," he'd said, but he was wrong.
By the time Lycia agreed to Raven's job, the desperation had already consumed her. She did not care about the risks. Neither did she care about Raven's safety or the betrayal lurking in her eyes. All she cared about was Jack, and the fear that if she didn't take the chance, she would lose him forever.
Lycia curled up tighter on the cold floor, her teeth biting into her trembling lip. She thought she could save Jack, but only if she had not ended up here, bruised and alone. What would Jack think if he saw her now? Would he be disappointed? Would he tell her she wasn't as tough as he thought?
"No.
The answer rang in her mind, clear and strong. Jack wouldn't say that. He'd look her in the eye and remind her why she fought so hard in the first place.
"You're tougher than the streets, kid," she whispered to herself, clutching the words like a lifeline.
Her eyes burned, but she forced the tears back. She wasn't done yet. For Jack, she'd keep fighting. She'd claw her way out of this mess, no matter what it took.
This wasn't the end. It couldn't be.