"Ahhhhhh//"
Robin's eyes flew open as his scream tore through the silence, raw and jagged, echoing as if dragged from the depths of his lungs. He clutched his head with both hands so tightly that his knuckles turned pale, as though trying to shield his skull from invisible blades stabbing into him again and again.
The nightmare had been too real. Every phantom strike, every thrust, he had felt it all cutting into his flesh—pain lancing through his body, relentless and unending. It was so real that he could taste the despair, the greed, the hatred that had drowned Arkalon in those final moments. That desperate hunger for one last breath, one last heartbeat—it all still clung to him like a suffocating shroud.
