KAIA
Darkness surrounds me, thick and suffocating.
Then slowly, shapes begin to form. Colors bleed through the black—brown, gray, the dull red of rust.
My vision clears.
I'm standing in a wasteland. Scorched earth stretches in every direction, broken trees jutting from the ground like skeletal fingers. The smell hits me first—iron and decay, thick enough to taste. My stomach turns, bile rising in my throat.
Then I see them.
Two bodies lie before me, grotesquely mangled. My knees buckle, but I force myself to stay upright.
Vincent. Mom.
The details are too visceral, too real. Torn clothing soaked through with blood. Limbs bent at impossible angles. Deep gouges across their skin like something massive fed on them.
My mind goes cold.
The smell of blood is so real. So strong. Every
