Lyra stood at the edge of the world, and her feet felt like they were frozen deep into the sand. A wave of dizziness washed over her, making her feel faint, but the fear in her chest was too loud to let her collapse. She wanted to keep moving, to keep walking until she disappeared into the horizon, but her body was failing her. She didn't dare look back. She didn't want to confirm what her heart already suspected.
It was very clear now: she was being followed. The person behind her wasn't running or shouting. There were no heavy footsteps or sounds of a struggle. Instead, the person was just walking calmly. They kept the exact same distance between them, step for step. That steady, patient pace was terrifying. It felt like a predator watching a wounded animal, knowing there was no reason to rush because the prey had nowhere left to go.
