Lucy was locked in a cold, unforgiving room with Kain. Both of them sat on the hard floor, the chill seeping into their bones. Kain barely kept his eyes open, but he struggled to watch Lucy—her broken posture, the weight of despair hanging heavy around her.

“Hi,” he whispered weakly.

Her head lifted slowly, meeting his tired gaze.

“Hi,” she answered, voice cracked and fragile. “Do you feel better now?”

A faint, tired smile flickered on his lips. “Worried about me, huh? You hate me, don’t you?”

She inhaled sharply, her breath trembling with unease. Then she exhaled, voice low and raw. “No. I’m more angry with myself. I feel......