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Slowly, Sylvia had gotten used to it all. The solitude was preferable over anytime Carnifex decided to torment her again, for at least she had peace and quiet. It was here where she found small moments of strength through the Force. Radiant hope drenched in the unmistakable presence of Elle Mors quietly fed her willpower and with it, the courage to escape. She would see her again, she had to.
That hope, however, had become weaker today. Something was wrong. The Force cried out, warning her of danger, though it was not Sylvia herself who it spoke of. All it could mean was that it was Elle who was in peril, something that worried her more than her own predicament. Still, the spacer kept the hope she had. Elle was not going to die. This was not the end. It simply could not be, for no other reason than Sylvia's own stubbornness.
Shock froze Sylvia in place. Her heart stopped. Panic, pure and overwhelming, was all she felt now.
She choked as tears began streaming down her cheeks, lips trembling. Her legs gave out the moment she tried to stand. All strength was gone.
In the deepest core of Sylvia's soul, something sacred cracked and shattered. Agony enveloped her, stronger than any physical pain could ever be.
Ugly sobbing filled the lightless cell.
The first time they had been pulled apart had left enough of a mark, but luck had granted Sylvia a chance to make things right. Yet after everything they had been through, right as they had found each other again, life's cruel face reared its ugly head again.
Elle was gone. Dead. And with it, the hope she inspired.