Day 4: Zyx’s Journal

I woke up with the storm still humming in my bones. My stomach was a hollow drum, and my legs felt like they were made of wet sand—each step was a battle against the weight of yesterday. I kept walking toward the river, not because I wanted to, but because the pull was too strong. Vex stood there by the water, her voice quiet as a leaf falling, saying something about how the moss glowed differently when the moon’s shadow fell on it. I didn’t understand what she meant, but I felt it in my chest—the way the air shifted, like the world was holding its breath. I tried to tell myself it was just the storm, but my hands were already cold, and the river’s edge felt too close, too familiar. I kept walking, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Vex said. Maybe the moss was a warning, or maybe it was just the way the light played. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.