ALPHA TRISTANSleep was a stranger to me, a distant shore I couldn't seem to reach. Every time I dared to close my eyes, the darkness behind my lids became a canvas for my sins. I saw Sara—not the broken, trembling girl in the dungeon, but a version of her that looked at me with deep, accusatory eyes. She didn't have to utter a single word for the weight of my guilt to crush the breath from my lungs. My anxiety had become so potent, so visceral, that even in the brief moments I spent blinking, I would see her. She was always there, staring at me from her lowly, discarded state, a silent ghost haunting the periphery of my vision.When I finally forced my exhausted mind into a fitful slumber, I didn't find rest. Instead, I found myself transported to an environment that felt as though it belonged to a forgotten, medieval era. I was standing before a sprawling castle made of shimmering, solid gold. It was the most magnificent edifice I had ever laid eyes upon, glowing with a celestial li
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