Meanwhile, in Sylvia's original world a world that now felt so distant the atmosphere in a small room in the human settlement was filled with a different kind of tension. Sofia, her frail body lying on a simple bed, looked like a fragile porcelain doll. Her skin was pale, her usually radiant hair now dull, and her breaths so faint they were barely audible. For months, she had been trapped in a coma, disconnected from the world that continued to move around her.
Rina, her loyal friend, sat beside the bed, her hands busy replacing the damp cloth on Sofia's forehead. Her tired but hopeful eyes never left her friend's face. Suddenly, Sofia's fingers twitched only slightly, almost imperceptible, but enough to make Rina hold her breath. Her heart raced. She leaned forward, gently grasping Sofia's hand.
"Sofia? Sofia, can you hear me?" Rina called, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and anxiety. "Come on, open your eyes… I know you can do it!"
