[Declan]
I was breathless when I got to Gamma's quarters. The road to his home was longer than usual, as though it was stretching with every hurried step I took. My lungs burned, and my vision blurred, following the wave of the wind that blew into it, but none of it mattered. All the time I ran, I didn't for once stop thinking about the sudden twisted outcome of Dylan's staged death. The thought clung to me like a shadow, following me every step of the way, and whispering guilt, panic, and dread.
I had asked him to pretend to be affected by Avira's deteriorated health, and not to actually get himself killed. The plan was supposed to be simple, convincing, harmless, and most importantly, staged. Nothing more.
Did he hold his breath for too long, and suffocated? Is he really dead because Avira had actually died? Or did something else happen after I left? Each question tormented me relentlessly, tearing at the edges of my sanity. Every possible answer only increased my fear.
