Lucy stirred. Not the dark Lucy, the real Lucy.

Her awakening was sluggish, the kind of heavy, reluctant movement that betrayed the weight of a long slumber. Her eyelids fluttered open, then fell shut again, as though the world itself were too blinding to face. The second time they opened, a deep frown carved into her face, straining muscles stiff from disuse. Every part of her body ached. A fire of questions burned inside her chest, demanding to be spoken aloud, but her weakness chained her down.

It was only when she managed to crank her head to the left that the world jolted into focus.

A body lay beside...