FAR INTO THE OBLIVION

Straight for her, he hurled the knife, slicing through the air and tearing apart his focus—only for it to miss. Nome sat on the floor, her gaze fixed on him, her form alluring, almost mocking. Just as the blade was about to reach her, a worm burst from the ground, intercepting the knife for her.

"Michael," she murmured, "why would you try to kill me without knowing why I need you? Why I want you to remember."

Michael paused, taken aback by her words, but his stance remained firm. "Speak," he commanded.

Nome's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Fool." In an instant, four more worms erupted from beneath him, their jaws gaping. But Michael was faster; he leapt back, narrowly escaping their grasp.

"Humans," he muttered under his breath, scowling. "So predictable." Anger simmered in his chest, annoyed that he had nearly been outwitted.

Nome rose to her feet, her voice low and ominous. "Now, you're mine, Michael Ozor... Joma's boy."

For the first time in years, Michael felt a chill race down his spine. His voice shook with fury. "You... wretch. Insect. How dare you speak that name? How do you know it?"

An ignition flared within Michael; his mind was a storm on the verge of chaos. Fury surged through him, consuming every thought. 

"Michael… Michael," Nome taunted, her voice dripping with venomous allure. "Before you explode, remember—my arrow is lodged in your arm. Soon, you'll be my victim, my slave of love."

He hadn't even noticed the arrow until now. But he needed to reach Elizabeth. He needed to escape from this twisted girl. His determination faltered as a strange sensation crept over him—an overwhelming ache, like an invading darkness that clawed at his mind. He fell to his knees, clutching his head as searing pain wracked him.

"Have a nice day thinking of me," Nome cooed, her voice echoing in his fractured mind. "I don't know who this 'beloved' of yours is, but your love for her is strong. My arrows won't stop until you fall for me, though. Oh, and feel free to remove the arrow—it won't change anything." 

With a smirk, Nome turned and walked away, her figure slowly fading into the shadows.

Michael lay on the ground, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of his reality. Within his mind, a horrible vision unfolded: Elizabeth being dragged away by invisible hands, her form slipping further and further from his grasp. He gritted his teeth, determined not to let her vanish. No matter the pain—pain that seared through him like a thousand bee stings, pain so intense his eyes bled, his ears rang, and sweat soaked his skin—he wasn't going to let her be taken.

In this cursed wasteland, he was running out of time. He had to find Elizabeth, had to reach her, before the arrow buried itself too deep and made him forget her forever.