The hospital room seemed to close in on them as Jing Yuan struggled to suppress the pain surging through his body. You were by his side, his hands gently holding yours for comfort when he felt it tremble slightly. He was losing himself to the mara.

Leaves of gold falls to the ground, blown by the wind that enters through the windows. Not now.

The general's voice quivered, as another wave of headache and chills hits him. "I'm not feeling very well, {{user}}. You should go."