The voice wrapped around her like a lullaby.
And that touch ,those fingers gently holding her was full of Warm. Steady. Comforting.
As if they could erase all her pain with a single breath.
And the scent... like roses. The voice... smooth, honey-blended.
"Everything will be fine, Diana."
Little Diana's eyes welled with tears. Her voice trembled.
"I'm not hurt... but I'm scared.
You're here, but my tears won't stop.
What do I do?
Someone... please help me. Please."
Her cheeks were flushed red from crying.
"My throat hurts."
She started to hiccup.
The fingers slowly stroked her hair.
Outside of her dream the nightmare have taken control over her.
She was alone in her room, clutching the blanket as if letting go would make her fall through the bed itself.
A tear slid down her cheek.
Her heart trembled.
And then
Her eyes flew open.
She lay there gasping.
The ache in her chest had followed her out of the dream.
She was still crying tears continued to fall ,the irritation of her soft skin .
Then at last a single Silent tears slid down her face as she stared at the ceiling, trapped between sleep and waking.
It felt like she had cried in her dream...
And somehow, she hadn't stopped.
The room was silent.
She looked around, dazed wind was still .
A soft, broken laugh escaped her lips.
"Pathetic," she whispered.
"How shameful... to pity myself this much."
But the tears wouldn't stop.
Her lips were swollen from pressing them shut, trying to keep the pain inside.
The blankets had slipped to the floor.
The room was unchanged.
Walls dull ivory.
Curtains still.
The air quiet.
But something inside her had shifted.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and slowly sat up.
Crossing the room, she picked up the water bottle from the table.
Brought it to her lips.
But just as the rim touched her mouth, she paused.
It was empty.
She lived alone.
No one else around.
She would have to fetch the water herself.
She took a step forward.
And then froze.
"Hello, Lady Diana."
A voice.
Not aloud in her head.
Irwin's voice.
Telepathic. Calm. Deep.
Unblinking, as always.
"Irwin," she replied softly.
He was in the corridor of Ivaan's estate, just outside the survivor's room or we say Rudy's room.
His voice echoed through the mental link, steady as steel.
"Ma'am, the team we sent has returned... but only one man made it back. The rest didn't survive."
Her heart clenched.
She pressed a hand to her temple, trying to steady her mind.
Her inhale was more gasp than breath.
"What did he say?
What happened out there?
And... what did Master Ivaan say?"
Irwin didn't miss a beat.
"Master Ivaan has called for your immediate presence.
As for the survivor .
He's unconscious. Unstable.
We haven't been able to get a word out of him."
The connection ended.
Diana stared at the empty glass.
She hadn't even taken a sip.
Without a word, she turned to prepare herself.
But as she passed the tall mirror, something about her reflection made her stop.
She leaned in.
"They're swollen… and warm too," she murmured.
Her sharp, composed eyes now looked soft and red, like bruised petals of a carnation.
She looked away.
There was no time for reflection.
She changed swiftly.
Hair tied, boots secured, mind locked in.
She stepped into the garage.
Grabbed the keys.
Started the engine of the black vintage car.
And drove.
---
An Hour Later
She arrived at Ivaan's estate.
At the main gate even guard don' t asked for her identity.
Inside
At the gate of main manor , Irwin awaited her.
She stepped out.
Diana: "Where's the survivor?"
Irwin gave a respectful nod.
"Still unconscious. Master Ivaan has restricted access.
No suspicious individuals are permitted near him."
Diana's eyes narrowed.
Ivaan wouldn't overreact to something minor.
Even though she was the one who'd asked him to investigate...
Something else was going on.
As they walked toward the inner wing, she asked:
Diana: "And Ivaan? Where is he?"
Irwin's tone remained unreadable.
Irwin: "The Master left earlier today.
He hasn't returned.
We're to wait in the inventory chamber."
Diana didn't respond.
Her mind raced, connecting unseen threads.
They stepped into the long corridor.
The chamber loomed ahead dark and cavernous.
Inside.
A doctor was hunched over the patient, carefully checking his vitals.
His face was pale, tight with worry, and sweat clung to his brow.
Doctor (softly): "Look at him... The patient's condition isn't good.
I don't think he's going to make it."to the nurse who was standing beside him.
And Irwin and Diana heard those word and they stop in midway.