99. Lorenzo
The air felt wrong.
Thick and oppressive, pressing against my chest like an invisible vice. My muscles were strung tight, each fiber stretched to the brink, and a relentless pulse hammered at my temples. Every nerve in my body buzzed with a raw, unsettled energy. Something was off.
No, I could tell that something was very wrong.
My fists curled involuntarily, the leather of my gloves creaking under the pressure.
"I think they are hiding, sir. We should check on the other side," one of my men suggested, his eyes scanning the barren cliffs, his voice like a knife grating against my already frayed patience.
"Sir! Sir!"
The urgency in his tone shredded the thin layer of control I was clinging to. My jaw locked, teeth grinding like stones as I turned to him, fury flashing
