Luka sat on the warm sand, legs drawn up and fingers tracing absent patterns in the grains. The waves lapped lazily at the shore, their rhythm matching the quiet thrum of his thoughts. He watched the horizon, where the sun smeared gold and orange across the sky, and felt the weight of distance pressing against him—distance from home, from the people he loved, and from the certainty he used to cling to. Music hummed softly in his mind, a companion to the ache of longing he refused to speak aloud, and for a moment, he let himself simply exist, untethered and alone, listening to the world and to the silence inside him.