Twelve years ago.
A young Cyrus was panting as he leaned back on the wall behind him.
He looked down at his injured foot and sighed heavily.
He came out here to escape from his mother yet here he was in the middle of nowhere beside a cliff with an injured foot.
He looked up at the small cliff he fell from, a bit more force and he would have fallen on the deeper cliff in front of him. Luckily he was able to stop himself before he tumbled over.
But right now, he didn't actually know if he would be able to survive with his injured foot.
He didn't know if people walk past this place either.
"I blindly just walked around, I should have had a plan on mind instead."
He sighed again.
The night before he heard his mother's plan.
About wishing to have full control over him.
Even though the one she talked to said that there would be risks of him completely losing his mind by doing this, she replied with she wouldn't care.
