Extra Scene, Act 1, Chapter 9 (Leire's POV)

Leire observes the small sprout timidly emerging from the patch of earth she just uncovered with her hands. A barely perceptible smile curves her lips as she gazes at that tiny sign of life.

Amid the chaos and destruction that the corruption has sown in the city, that fragile plant stands as a symbol of resilience. Despite the devastation that has engulfed everything around it, nature persists, defying the odds and rising again no matter how many times it’s knocked down.

Leire admires that quality, that silent strength that finds its way even in the darkest places.

“Plants, just like us, don’t give up easily, even in the face of fear. A reminder that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, I suppose.”

Though the words are meant for MC, they resonate in her own mind as if she’s trying to convince herself. For a moment, Leire sees herself reflected in that little sprout. Maybe, after all, there’s still hope for her too, a possibility to bloom again from the ruins of what she once was.

Leire barely registers MC crouching down next to her, nor does she hear when they whisper something. Instead, she carefully reaches out, her fingers searching for the sprout, unaware that MC is doing the same. Before she can touch the plant, Leire’s hand meets her friend’s.

The contact sends a slight pressure through her chest, an unexpected reminder of something she always tries to keep under control. Leire looks up immediately, panic beginning to bubble up inside her.

“How is this possible?” she urgently wonders, feeling the familiar thirst awakening within her. “I took it just before leaving.”

Anxiety grips her, growing with every beat of her heart. MC returns her gaze, their worried expression only intensifying the fear climbing up Leire’s body, wrapping around her in a suffocating embrace.

The air becomes heavy, almost unbreathable, and Leire feels the fear starting to drown her.

“Not again,” she thinks desperately, trying to swallow, but her mouth is completely dry. “Not again!”

Leire sees MC leaning closer, likely noticing her state and wanting to make sure that the darkness of the night isn’t playing tricks on them. But the warrior can’t bear it, can’t allow herself to be seen like this—vulnerable and broken. She can’t stand the judgment in their eyes, the compassion she so despises.

Suddenly, she stands up abruptly, turning her back on MC. She closes her eyes tightly and rubs her temples, trying to suppress the headache that begins to pound in her skull like a drum.

“Are you okay, Leire?” MC’s voice reaches her ears, laden with concern, but Leire isn’t sure if it’s real or just her imagination tricking her again.

She opens her eyes, trying to regain control of her thoughts. She needs to remember where she is, she needs to anchor her mind in reality. Looking at the ground, she confirms that everything is real: she’s in Astian, on the deserted streets of High Zone, and MC is there, beside her.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she finally replies, patting the pocket on her breeches only to realize something terrifying.

She’s left the vial in the room.

Her heart begins to pound, almost painfully, as panic seizes her. She needs the vial, she needs to calm the hunger before it completely consumes her.

“We should head back, it’s getting late,” she says as urgently as before, not waiting for MC’s response before starting to walk.

She needs to go back. She needs to go back to her room. She needs to go back to her room and get the vial. She needs to go back to her room, get the vial, and drink it…

“Leire-”

“Now.”

Her voice cuts off MC’s sentence, but Leire doesn’t even realize it. Her tone is abrupt, almost desperate, but those words weren’t for them.

They were for herself.