A few more days.
We had finally reached the foot of the mountains he had pointed out to me.
And already, the world around us had changed.
Even the air burned the lungs. Every breath left a taste of iron, as if the air itself had been forged in some ancient forge.
The air was heavier, hotter, saturated with a metallic, almost acidic smell.
Our nostrils sometimes bled without warning, eaten away by the acidity in the air. An invisible, constant bite, slowly gnawing at every exposed organ. Even blinking became painful, as sulfur particles clung like burning sand.
With each step, the ground grew darker, more cracked, streaked with fissures from which reddish vapors escaped.
But that didn't stop us.
The training… continued.
Without respite.
Each day, I made her run, jump, dodge, strike.
In the rocks.
Under the ash rains.
Against the remaining Gorvaks, now rarer, but also fiercer, mutated by the environment.
And at night?
I hunted her.
No rules. No breaks.
And she held on.
