But she still moaned, raising her hand.
Her dried-up throat no longer emitted the sound akin to a lark, only the sound resembling a saw cutting through a tree remained.
Her lips trembled constantly, opening her mouth from painful moans, fearing, fearing, desperate,
"Fe..."
"Fisher... ugh..."
"Where are... you... I'm so... scared..."
"Save... save... me..."
Above the tent, a golden eye fell into this cramped space at some point, as if responding to her call.
Covered in wounds, Fisher looked at the bedraggled, dying Elizabeth before him. Even though the pain had echoed in his mind countless times, even though regret had haunted him, until this moment, when he really saw Elizabeth lying on the bed, scarred and struggling to maintain life, he still felt heartbrokenly that all this was his fault.
He used to blame Pandora's Artificial Eye, thinking that her current state was all the eye's manipulation or influence...
