Michael lunged forward.
With a swift movement, he hurled his knife towards her. The blade sliced through the air, cutting straight towards its intended target.
But it missed.
Nome hadn't even bothered to move.
She sat calmly on the ground, her gaze fixed upon him. There was something almost mocking about her expression, as though she were enjoying a performance staged exclusively for her entertainment.
Just as the blade was about to reach her, the earth beneath her shifted.
A worm erupted from the ground.
Its enormous jaws snapped shut around the knife, intercepting it before it could reach Mone. The blade disappeared between its teeth, and the creature slowly lowered its head.
Michael's expression tightened.
"Michael," Nome murmured, tilting her head. "Why would you try to kill me without even knowing why I need you? Why I want you to remember?"
Michael paused.
Her words caught his attention, but he didn't lower his guard. His body remained tense, his eyes observing every movement around her.
He wasn't foolish enough to mistake a conversation for a peaceful encounter.
"Speak," he commanded.
Nome's lips curled into a sinister smile.
"Fool."
The ground beneath Michael suddenly trembled.
Before he could react, four more worms erupted from the earth, their enormous jaws opening as they lunged towards him.
Michael moved instinctively.
He threw himself backwards, narrowly escaping the creatures as their jaws snapped shut where he had been standing. Their bodies twisted against the ground, searching for another opportunity to strike.
Michael landed several metres away, his injured body struggling to maintain its balance.
"Humans," he muttered, scowling. "So predictable."
His irritation simmered.
He had allowed himself to become distracted by her words. Worse, he'd nearly fallen into an obvious trap.
He tightened his grip around what remained of his weapon.
He needed to be more careful.
Nome slowly rose to her feet.
Her expression had changed. The playful excitement remained, but something darker had settled behind her eyes.
"Now, you're mine, Michael Ozor..."
She paused.
"Joma's boy."
Silence.
For the first time in years, Michael felt a chill race down his spine.
His expression stiffened.
The name.
That name.
His fingers tightened, and his breathing became uneven. Something inside him seemed to ignite, a sudden surge of fury threatening to overwhelm every rational thought.
"You..."
His voice trembled.
"You wretch. Insect."
He took a step forward.
"How dare you speak that name? How do you know it?"
His mind became a storm.
Every thought, every calculation, every consideration of survival was pushed aside by the anger rising within him.
Joma.
How did she know?
Who had told her?
And, more importantly, what exactly did she know about his father?
"Michael... Michael..."
Mone's voice interrupted his thoughts.
She spoke slowly, almost affectionately, as though savouring the anger she had awakened.
"Before you explode, there's something you should remember."
Her eyes shifted towards his arm.
"My arrow is already lodged in you."
Michael's gaze followed hers.
An arrow.
He hadn't even noticed it.
A small shaft protruded from his arm, its heart-shaped tip embedded in his flesh.
Mone giggled.
"Soon, you'll become my victim. My little slave of love."
Michael stared at the arrow.
He had been struck without realising it.
How?
When?
He tried to recall the sequence of events, searching for the precise moment the projectile had reached him. But his thoughts were becoming increasingly difficult to organise.
He needed to leave.
He needed to find Elizabeth.
Whatever this girl was planning, he couldn't afford to remain here.
But then something changed.
A strange sensation spread through his body.
It began as an uncomfortable ache, almost like an irritation beneath his skin. Within moments, it intensified, becoming something far more invasive.
It felt as though darkness had entered his mind.
Something foreign was crawling through his thoughts, clawing at his memories and twisting the very things he had always taken for granted.
Michael staggered.
His vision blurred.
He tried to steady himself, but his legs gave way.
THUD.
He fell to his knees, both hands clutching his head.
"AAAAAGH!"
The pain was unbearable.
It wasn't like having his bones broken or his flesh torn apart. Those were physical injuries, things he could understand and, to some extent, endure.
This was different.
It felt as though something was trying to force its way into the deepest parts of his consciousness.
Nome watched him with a satisfied smile.
"Have a nice day thinking about me."
Her voice seemed to echo strangely, as though it were no longer reaching him through his ears alone.
"I don't know who this 'beloved' of yours is, but your love for her is strong."
She tilted her head.
"How adorable."
Michael struggled to lift his head.
"My arrows won't stop until you fall for me, though."
She giggled again.
"Oh, and feel free to remove the arrow. It won't change anything."
Nome turned away.
Her footsteps carried her further into the shadows, her figure gradually disappearing from sight.
She didn't seem particularly concerned about whether Michael would recover.
As far as she was concerned, the encounter was already over.
Michael collapsed onto the ground.
His breathing was ragged, his body trembling as he struggled to hold on to the last fragments of his reality.
Then the visions began.
Within his mind, something horrible unfolded.
Elizabeth.
He could see her.
She was being dragged away by invisible hands, her body struggling against forces he couldn't identify. Her figure grew increasingly distant, disappearing into an endless darkness.
Michael reached towards her.
But he couldn't move.
He tried calling her name, yet his voice seemed to disappear before it could reach her.
No.
Not her.
He couldn't lose her.
His fingers dug into the ground as he fought to regain control of himself.
The pain intensified.
It spread through his head like a thousand bee stings, each sensation sharper than the last. His eyes began to bleed, warm liquid running down his cheeks. His ears rang violently, drowning out the sounds of the surrounding forest.
Sweat soaked his skin.
His body convulsed.
Yet he refused to surrender.
He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to distinguish reality from whatever nightmare the arrow had forced upon him.
Elizabeth was out there.
Somewhere.
She was waiting, whether she knew it or not.
And he had to reach her.
He couldn't allow himself to forget her.
Not her face.
Not her voice.
Not the memories that had kept him tethered to this miserable existence.
He would rather endure anything than have those memories taken away.
In this cursed Wasteland, time was running out.
He had to find Elizabeth.
He had to reach her.
Before the arrow burrowed any deeper into his mind.
Before the thing inside him succeeded in taking away the one person he could never afford to forget.