Layla's body lay completely lifeless on the cold stone floor before Arthur.
Water had spilled from the bottle in Layla's loose hand, spreading across the polished floor in a thin, glistening pool.
Her sky-blue hair was scattered around her face.
Her skin had taken on a dark bluish-purple hue.
White foam stained the corner of her lips.
Her half-open brown eyes no longer held their usual sharpness, pride, or challenge.
There was nothing in them.
No breath.
No pulse.
No warmth.
Arthur stood over her for several seconds without speaking.
Then he slowly crouched beside her.
His expression remained grim as he reached for the bottle lying close to Layla's fingers. He carefully picked it up, turning it in his hand while examining the clear liquid inside.
At first glance, it looked completely ordinary.
Colorless.
Clean.
Odorless.
Just water.
But Arthur brought the bottle closer to his nose and inhaled carefully.
A faint, almost unnoticeable scent reached him.
It was sweet.
