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... fect.
When Verena opened her eyes, she was no longer in the labyrinth, nor beside Vivienne or Isolde. Instead, she lay in a field of soft, silver grass beneath an unmoving sky. The stars above didn’t twinkle. They just... watched. Frozen. Like tiny judgmental eyes refusing to blink.
She sat up—or tried to. Her body responded slowly, like her limbs were submerged in honey. No walls, no monsters, no sound of crackling torches or Isolde’s snark. Just stillness. Absolute, suffocating ...
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