Then came a voice.
But not the one from the system, neither was it a human nor was it a beast. A voice of an evil spirit. It was the voice she hated the most. The voice that haunts her everyday, gnawing at her soul slowly bit by bit.
Pulling her back to reality.
It did not speak, it resonated, vibrating through the marrow of her bones, through the hollow spaces between her ribs. Ancient. Thunderous. Not loud, but inescapable, as if the earth itself had formed the words.
"Do you regret not dying with them?"
The question hung in the air like a blade poised at her throat.
Alira did not answer.
Her breath hitched not once but twice, but her face remained a mask, carved from stone and stubborn silence.
"Do you still carry the guilt of surviving?"
Again, she said nothing.
But her body betrayed her. Her teeth clenched, her jaw locking so tight the muscles stood in stark relief beneath her skin.
