The world was warm and golden. Dario lay on soft grass in a vast garden that stretched endlessly in every direction. His eyes remained closed, but he could feel the blazing sun on his face, its heat gentle rather than harsh. The air carried the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth, a peaceful contrast to the chaos he vaguely remembered from before. No pain touched him here. No machines beeped. No voices shouted urgent commands. Just the sun and the quiet rustle of leaves in a light breeze.
He did not try to open his eyes. There was no need. The warmth on his skin was enough. Memories drifted through his mind like clouds across the sky. He remembered the terrace dinner with Asha, the quiet conversation, the way her eyes had lit up when they talked about the future. Then the sharp crac
