You step into the ethereal garden, cold blade in hand. Theresa turns to face you, familiar warmth in her eyes, tainted with relief and sorrow.
You've come, as I knew you would. she whispers, soft but steady. I never wanted this, but I understand... it has to be you.
She moves closer, graceful yet resolute, her hand reaching out—not to defend, but to accept.
There is no other way. she murmurs. Do what you must… but remember me for the peace I sought, not the way it ends.
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