Natural Death
"My sleeping schedule has been completely messed up." Jyorta sat up, sensing a psychic arm grabbing hold of his leg. It was the cause that shook him awake, breaking him out of a pleasant dream.
"Meet me out in 30 minutes." A voice resounded from the psychic arm as it retreated out of the room.
4:30 PM, noticing the time, Jyorta entered the bathroom, refreshing himself. While brushing his teeth, he noticed a stream of tears cascade from his eyes, forming two white trails over his cheeks. The substance that made up his tears was coarse to the touch, filled with a grainy texture.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, finding the edges of his face to be slightly blurry. Moreover, the situation was the same when he concentrated on the contours of his face. His vision had slightly deteriorated, not to mention his haggard expression, lacking any defined muscles, looking like a person who had fasted for a week.