A sharp breath tore through Lilia's lungs as her consciousness clawed its way back to reality. Pain laced every inch of her body—her ribs ached with every shallow inhale, her arms felt like dead weight, and the coppery taste of blood lingered on her tongue. The cold ground beneath her sent shivers through her battered frame.
She barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps.
"Lilia!"
The voice was sharp, edged with alarm and unmistakable fury. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, carefully turning her over. Her vision flickered, her head pounding as she blinked up at the stern face of Instructor Ethan.
His usual composed demeanor was gone—his brown eyes burned with anger.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, his voice tight with restrained rage.
Lilia exhaled slowly, gathering enough breath to respond. "I… was attacked."
