Leonel stood in silence.
In the skies, the lines of red-black grew thicker, the leaches become less and less illusory.
Leonel's gaze shifted down from the skies, landing on Aina who still seemed to be immobile. Though it now seemed to be in part due to struggling against the Puppet Master's growing control, a large majority of it seemed to be fear.
Leonel found it hard to believe that this was his Aina. Fear was never an emotion he had seen her display before. At the very least, not for the sake of an enemy.
It could be said that the first time Leonel saw Aina's façade crack was that day in the bathhouse. He could still remember the path every tears that fell down her cheeks took. He remembered the exact hue of her reddened eyes, the way her wet hair had stuck to her face, the way she trembled through each and every one of her clumsy actions.
The emotions she experienced that day were all seared into his mind.