Ally moves slowly through the shadows. Unsure of what lies in wait. Constantly, her body is tense. A burning flare pulsates in her chest. There’s no escaping it. The pain is this world’s requirement. Its reminder of its dominance; its control. And Ally succumbs. Without strength, it’s impossible to fight against. So she crawls along streets; cowers in corners. Every breath is strained. Tears creep to the surface of Ally’s eyes in desperation of relief. What she wouldn’t give for that cleansing power to envelope her. But she struggles to even remember. What was it like to possess such power? Such calm? Like forcing sight through a thick haze, she fails to remember. And soon, too weak to fight, she lays her head down in the darkness, entrapped by the shadows.