Day 22: Lyranzy’s Journal

I woke up to the same fog as always, the kind that clings to your throat like a question. My stomach was a dull ache, but it wasn’t the hunger they talk about—the kind that makes your hands shake. Vex’s voice still echoed by the river, that cold whisper he left behind: *‘You’re not alone, but you’re not ready either.’* I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back, like a shadow that won’t leave your mind. I sat there for a long time, watching the fog roll over the ruins, wondering why I keep going back there. The stones are cold, the air is thick with silence, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop asking what’s real or what’s just the way it feels.