Literature
Soul
Illusion.
The silhouette extended a hand to her, waiting to offer whatever aid possible after she had her senses robbed from her momentarily.
She wanted nothing more than to accept the hand, get to safety and know that everything will be alright, but this hand was an illusion. It wasn't happening. She just had to be dead.
The pain around her recently asphyxiated throat proved otherwise, but logistics didn't matter now. All she wanted to do was sleep, as the figure closed in on her her, vision blurring, as they blended with the artificial sky of the Citadel.
A slow sway, like being lulled to sleep; by parents she knew were in the next lif