"I—I can't breathe…!"
Lumine panted, gasping for air as he crumbled to his knees on the soft grass, his forehead pressing against the rough bark of a tree trunk.
Sweat drenched his white T-shirt and black pants, glistening under the harsh sunlight as fresh beads rolled down his body. His right hand still clutched his sword—barely—before his grip loosened, and the weapon slipped from his fingers, landing with a dull thud on the ground.
With great difficulty, as if his body had turned to lead, Lumine turned himself around, collapsing onto his back against the tree trunk. His chest rose and fell heavily.
"I—I can't… no more… please…!"
He pleaded, his voice raw, but the only response was the whisper of the wind against the endless field of grass. He was alone—just him and the lone tree standing in this vast, empty land.
Gritting his teeth, his pale face contorted in desperation. He called out again, weaker this time.
"Please…"
