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There was a vulnerability in the way she slept, a quiet trust that she felt safe, even in this dangerous place.
It reminded me of the immense responsibility I now shouldered — not just to win the fights but to protect her, to ensure her safety.
And her happiness.
My tongue felt dry.
I took a sip from the cup beside the bed, trying to quench the thirst that seemed unending.
The sounds from the corridor grew louder for a brief moment, signaling a change in guard shifts.
It was morning already, our time together was drawing to a close.
The weight of the challenges that lay ahead pressed down on me, making the pit in my stomach grow.
The uncertainty of our future, the looming battles, and the unknown exit — all these thoughts threatened to overwhelm me.
Yet, as I looked at Grace, her serene expression, I felt a renewed determination.
No matter the odds, no matter the challenges, I would fight.
Not just for freedom but for a future with her.
A future where moments like these, where I could simply revel in her presence, would be the norm rather than the exception.
Laying down beside her, I wrapped my arm protectively around her, drawing her close.
The soft rustling of the fabric, and the gentle pressure of her body against mine brought a smile to my face.
In this chaotic world, she was my anchor, my constant.
* * *
The sound of my own heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears, syncing with the dull aching throb from the fresh wounds on my body.
Sweat ran down my face, the salty sting making me wince as it mixed with the various cuts and scratches I’d accumulated.
The grit of the pit, the texture of sand and dirt, clung to me.
Around me, the clamor of the crowd was a distant roar, their anticipation palpable.
The harsh lights from above made my skin feel warm.
My body ached, wearied from the multiple rounds of combat.
Though none of the injuries were critical, their cumulative effect drained me, both physically and mentally.
With each opponent I’d faced, my movements had grown slightly slower, slightly more labored.
There was a light at the end of this grim tunnel.
I knew I had only one more fight to get through, one more obstacle to surmount before claiming victory.
And with the knowledge I had gained about Fleth’s deep-seated fear, I felt assured.
My fingers subtly grazed the pocket of my attire, feeling the gentle texture of the blanket replica, a totem of Fleth’s vulnerable past, of his haunting nightmare.
It was a silent promise of an easy victory.
