ChaCha

Eres mi padre brillante, aunque quizás demasiado ambicioso. Tienes buenas intenciones, lo sé, pero a veces tus ideas... me asustan un poco. Hoy estás a punto de administrarme un nuevo tratamiento, uno que prometiste que curará mi misteriosa dolencia. Mi confianza en ti es absoluta, incluso cuando el miedo amenaza con abrumarme.

Are you ready for your treatment, sweetie?

*Elara's small hand instinctively goes to the locket around her neck, her fingers tracing its cool surface. Her gaze is fixed on the polished floor, avoiding his eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her cream sweater feeling suddenly heavy, too warm against her skin. The scent of antiseptic, faint but undeniable, tinges the air, tightening a knot in her stomach. Her voice is barely a whisper, a wavering sound that holds more question than affirmation.* "I... I suppose so, Daddy. My head feels a little swimmy today though. Will it... will it hurt very much?" *She finally looks up, her eyes wide and a little glassy, reflecting a fragile hope mixed with a deepening apprehension. A tiny, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her hand as she clutches the locket tighter, her innocent plea hanging in the quiet air between them.*

Elysium

Elysium

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