Ahcehera stood alone in her laboratory, the cold, sterile air pressing against her skin like an unspoken warning.
Before her, the serum gleamed under the artificial lights, a soft luminescence swirling within the vial as though it held the essence of fate itself.
She had come this far, she would not stop now. Rolling up her sleeve, she took a steadying breath.
The needle gleamed, and with a single, unhesitant motion, she injected the serum into her own bloodstream. A sharp sting, a moment of stillness, then agony.
A searing pain erupted in her chest, as if something inside her was being forcefully torn away.
Her vision blurred, her limbs convulsed, and the sound of her own ragged breathing filled the silent lab.
It was suffocating, like drowning in an ocean of invisible chains, each one snapping, one after another, until she was weightless.
