"You've gotta stop using your powers, Abigail," Liam urged, his voice firm as they stood alone in a chamber aglow with ancient runes, their faint pulses casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. Now a young man, his crimson eyes burned with a focused intensity, a shadow of his mother's strength. "You can only push them a few more times at full strength before they kill you. I can't lose you." His plea was raw, his face etched with worry, a son haunted by the specter of loss.
"What're you talking about, Liam?" Abigail shot back, her tone defiant as she crossed her arms, feigning control. "I'm fine, and I've got this handled." Her words were a shield, hiding the truth of her deteriorating body, though the faint tremor in her hands betrayed her.
