Strax remained still.
Beatrice's words echoed in his mind, throbbing like hammer blows. Six months. He blinked several times, as if waking from a distorted dream. But nothing changed. The sound of the sea still roared. The sand still burned beneath his feet. And four pairs of eyes still stared at him, filled with memories he didn't have.
He sighed heavily, bringing his hand to his forehead. His breath sounded like embers consuming the air, slow and dense.
"Six months..." he murmured, as if testing the taste of those words in his mouth.
The silence remained, broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against rocks. He lifted his face, letting his gaze scan the horizon. The sea stretched endlessly, mirroring a sky too clear to be real. Nothing but that strip of sand and the jungle that rose like a green wall behind him.
He squinted, searching for signs. No other island. No shadows in the distance. No dark lines to indicate nearby land.
