Six Hours Later…
Azriel slowly opened his eyes.
The world came into focus in painful fragments—sunlight peeking through trees, grass beneath his fingertips, the dull ache pulsing behind his eyes like an old drum. He groaned and turned his head to the right.
Leirza was there, sitting with one knee folded up and his arm resting across it, watching the horizon in silence.
Azriel stirred, subtle at first, but Leirza noticed instantly. His void-infused eyes lit up.
"You're awake?!" he said, half-shouting, half-laughing. Without thinking, Leirza rushed to Azriel and hugged him tightly, holding him longer than expected. There was a strange sentimentality in it—born not just from relief, but from everything they had been through.
Azriel scratched the side of his head, wincing. It ached—like his skull had been rattled around for days. He tried to sit up, but his arms gave out.
