Gao Ziyue took a deep breath once more. The air within Azhura'k's domain, though intangible and composed of pure spiritual energy, seemed to solidify inside her lungs, making each breath an act of conscious effort.
The mist that always surrounded her within that domain slowly rippled around her.
Its movements were not random. Every ripple, every swirl of thick fog, pulsed in sync with the instability of her emotions. It was as if the veil that hid her from the world reflected the inner chaos she had long since learned to suppress.
For long, heavy seconds, absolute silence reigned. Even Azhura'k's gigantic eye, floating in the depths of the darkness, seemed to hesitate to pulse. She remained motionless, a statue sculpted from shadows and mist, as if gathering every spark of courage she still possessed.
This was not a story she told just anyone. It was the key to a prison she had built with her own hands, and opening it required a strength she no longer knew if she still possessed.
