***
{Outside The Projection}
Like most of the crowd, Safira's mouth was slightly open, but no words came out.
She had none to speak.
In the war, she had fought beside Malik, bled beside him.
She had seen him at his worst and his most terrifying, but never—never—had she thought about what it actually felt like for him.
Not once had she stopped to wonder what was running through his head.
But now? Watching this scene unfold?
She finally saw it.
The way the world seemed to close in around him.
Safira had never recognized it for what it was.
Now she did.
And she despised it.
Arguably, more than she ever despised that dream of his.
"…Shit."
It was Duban who spoke first, running both hands down his face.
They grabbed at it hard, fingers going white.
There was no sugarcoating it.
He looked like he'd just come out of a nightmare.
"That's what he felt?"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
It was rare to see him at a loss for words, but there it was.
