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And that emotion, unlike anything in the dreamworld, I knew to be real and genuine.
9
TIX
The clamor of the fighting pits resonated all around, a cacophony of excited shouts and the rhythmic pounding of feet against the sandy floor.
Yet as I stepped into the pit, I felt an odd sense of serenity.
I swung my sword in smooth arcs, the blade cutting through the air with a hiss.
Each swing was a dance of precision, honed through countless bouts and endless training sessions.
Today was different.
Today, the memories of my time with Grace filled my mind, offering a welcome distraction from the tension of the upcoming battle.
I could still see her, trying to maneuver her way through the dreamworld’s assault course, her face twisted in determination and sheer will.
There was something about her refusal to give in that captivated me.
Despite the odds stacked against her, Grace was relentless.
Every stumble, every setback, she took in stride, always pushing forward, always seeking a way out.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I could almost taste the sweet tang of the dreamworld’s fruits we’d shared during a break.
Their unique blend of sweet and tart mirrored Grace’s nature — a mix of vulnerability and undying spirit.
I could hear her laughter, clear and melodic, ringing out as she finally mastered a tricky section of the obstacle course.
That sound, that pure, unbridled joy, was music to my ears.
The dreamworld’s flora teased my nostrils, transporting me back to our time together.
I recalled the softness of the grass beneath our feet, the gentle rustling of the leaves overhead, and the warm embrace of the sun on our skin.
The sensation was so vivid that for a moment, I felt the gentle touch of her hand against mine, her fingers intertwining with mine in a bond of trust and affection.
Shaking my head to clear the memories, I looked around the pit, taking in the sights and sounds of the impending battle.
Despite the looming threats, my thoughts invariably wandered back to Grace.
Her brilliant smile, could light up even the darkest of days.
The soft curve of her lips, the twinkle in her eyes, and the playful tilt of her head as she challenged me to another round in the dreamworld’s training grounds.
It was in those moments, in those shared experiences, that I found the strength to keep going.
Not just for myself, but for her.
For us.
Grace’s indomitable spirit, her refusal to back down, her unwavering belief in a better tomorrow — these were the qualities that fueled my resolve.
Her determination was infectious, and I drew from her strength, letting it infuse my every move, every swing, every parry.
A roar from the crowd snapped me back to the present.
