No.
This wasn't what she wanted.
Lena's arms trembled as she held him closer, as if sheer will could keep the warmth from leaving his body. She pressed her forehead to his, her breath hitching when she felt how cold his skin had become.
She didn't understand what that meant at first.
Her mind was foggy, heavy, like she was sinking underwater. Thoughts slipped through her fingers no matter how tightly she tried to grasp them. But even in that haze, she knew one thing with painful certainty.
This wasn't good.
She couldn't hear the battlefield anymore.
The shouts, the clash of weapons, the frantic cries—all of it was gone, swallowed by a thick, suffocating silence. The world narrowed until there was only him in her arms and the uneven sound of her own breathing.
"…you…"
A voice cut through the haze.
Lena flinched.
The black shape before her—no, not black, she realized dimly—was speaking. Its words felt distant, like echoes bouncing off the walls of her skull.
"It's time…"
