[ It is, perhaps, the longest and most terrifying silence in Ruka's life. She is unable to move, to speak or scream or shield herself from harm, unable to spot any dangers, unable to call for help, unable to escape, unable to save herself or anyone else. She doesn't know where the other man went, doesn't know why his attackers have not come after her, doesn't know how long she's been immobile, how long she will be frozen in a stasis not unlike ice. But ice was good, ice and cold things were the gifts of her guardian — of some of many people who had so often told her not to risk herself alone to the City. ]

[ Clearly, she would die because of this. But Ruka didn't want to die — not in this place, where death would be undone so quickly, the maw of the underworld wrenched open and broken. She did not want to lose any of her precious memories, her dear friends. ]

[ She did not want to cry either, as terrified as she was, but whatever had frozen her in place prevented that as well. ]

[ Tick. Tick. Tick. ]