"Noooo!" Amy screamed, her voice cracking against the roar of the wind.
She ran for the cliff, feet slipping against the wet stone. Serif was already there, his chain whirring as it reeled back.
Amy slowed, her breath hitching. Step after step felt heavier, as though gravity itself had turned cruel. She stared at the chain, waiting for it to bring something—a hand, a piece of cloth, anything.
When it finally snapped back, she collapsed to her knees. A choked sound escaped her throat as she buried her face in her sleeve.
"I couldn't do anything… again," she whispered, the words trembling. "Just like back then."
Tears rolled freely.
The sound of her sobs mixed with the groans of the injured guards sprawled across the ground.
"Why…" she muttered, glaring at them through watery eyes.
Ursa's shadow fell over the guards before his voice did.
"What have you done," his voice came, controlled, tight, like a volcano ready to erupt.
