Gripping his head, Frey stumbled forward.
"What the hell did those bastards make me drink?! Some kind of alcohol?"
He questioned it—but quickly rejected the idea.
"No… that's impossible. Alcohol doesn't affect Awakened bodies."
It couldn't be alcohol. If it were, he wouldn't be feeling this way.
"What… the hell is happening to me?!"
The pain intensified with every step. Soon, he could barely even walk.
"Clana… we need to get out of here. Now."
He'd had enough. He was done with this place. But when he called her—
"Clana?"
—there was no reply.
"Clana?!"
Panic struck him like a lightning bolt. He pushed through the crowd, shouting her name—but no one seemed to mind him. Instead, they pulled him in as if he were one of them, laughing and dancing around him like he belonged there.
The headache got even worse, as if some kind of magic had been cast on him.
"Damn it! Where are you?!"
He grabbed someone he thought was her—only to find Ada Starlight staring at him in confusion.
