Dante was still peering into the dark, small space in confusion after Lyra's question when the sudden jolt of the elevator caused Lyra's figure to stumble forward."Careful, Lyra, keep steady." Dante's voice pierced the dimness. But Lyra, on the other hand, was hardly steady; the extended period in the dark, confined space, coupled with the sudden, unexpected ascension of the elevator, had made her lose stability; she missed a step and, for some weird reason, began to feel her head spinning immediately; she was beginning to lose her consciousness, and she had begun to slip downwards slowly, her legs stretching out."Lyra!" Dante’s voice was louder this time. He rushed towards her uncoordinatedly and in apprehension. It was at that point that the elevator lights came on again, revealing the crumpled body of Lyra on the floor; her head lolled to one side and her hair fanned out in disarray."Lyra." He whispered, fumbling with his hands, blinking repeatedly, and stooping at once to car
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