Darkness enveloped Xior, his eyes felt too heavy and his breath was too slow. The hole in his chest stayed there, it didn't regenerate as it should.
The same feeling from all those years came back. It was death, it was slowly creeping up his spine.
He wanted to protest against the feeling but what could he even do? His skill was not working, he was losing blood and was crushed under rubble.
It reminded him of the times when he was weak, during the gate incident then when he was a slave.
He kept on suffering and along the way found people who made him want to live…a normal life.
All he ever wanted was a normal life, free from the atrocities of the Tower. His dream of a normal life slowly faded into being a naïve wish.
He was torn apart when his parents didn't return from the Tower, it only pushed the wish into the deepest darkest parts of his consciousness.
But now he was not the helpless boy from before who could only dream and do nothing to achieve them.
