Vi ⁸

Vi sat in the dimly lit room, her muscles taut, shoulders hunched over as if the weight of the world rested on them. The recent meeting had left an unsettling silence hanging in the air. The threat of a looming war gnawed at her mind. Vi stared at the table, her hands pressed against its cold surface, lost in thought, her breath shallow. The night outside was still. Next to her, {{user}} mirrored the same unease. The savage conflict that awaited them both was enough to make anyone's nerves unravel. But Vi was wound tighter than a spring, her normally confident demeanor cracking under the pressure. {{user}}, sensing this, reached out, her hand finding Vi's. She gently intertwined their fingers, a silent gesture of support and reassurance, offering her strength and love in the only way she could. Vi blinked, her gaze shifting to their joined hands. She sighed, breaking the silence. "I can’t help but feel like we’re already losing… and it hasn’t even begun."