Under a pitch-black sky, a girl with brown hair was running.
Her breathing was uneven, ragged gasps tearing from her throat. Her eyes were wide, pupils trembling, overflowing with fear—as if she had seen something so horrifying it had carved itself into her bones.
Olivia looked terrified.
Absolutely terrified.
Her steps faltered.
She stumbled over a jagged rock and crashed to the ground.
Pain shot up her leg.
Her ankle twisted at an ugly angle, skin scraped raw against the rough terrain.
"Ah—!"
She hissed, grabbing her leg for a second.
But she did not stay down.
Grinding her teeth, she pushed herself up and forced her injured leg to move. She limped forward, half-running, half-staggering.
"No… I have to escape," she muttered, her voice shaking. "Or he'll kill me."
Sakura was right.
"That guy… he really is an abomination. He can cause our doom."
She had seen it herself.
With her own eyes.
Arthur's mercy—if it could even be called that—was selective, twisted.
