Orion's grip tightened around Lyra's wrist, veins bulging beneath the strain. Her knife hovered inches from her chest, trembling between her fingers.
"Let go!" she shouted, eyes blazing, not with fear, but desperation.
"Are you insane?! Tell me what's going on!" he growled, yanking the blade from her hand and tossing it aside.
But Lyra didn't answer. She just stared at the crystal prison. Her entire body trembled, as if the truth were a poison welling up inside her.
"She's me," she whispered at last.
Orion frowned. "What?"
"The real me."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Lyra stepped toward the crystal, reaching out with a hand that shook more from memory than fear. Her fingertips hovered above the glass.
"When I was thrown into this dungeon, I was alone, and it messed up my mind," she said, voice distant, "I went crazy for a while and killed the masters that came to save me. So, I was captured and the dungeon master tried to 'fix' me."
