Lyra's POV
The voices crashed over me like a tidal wave, each one sharper than broken glass.
"—pathetic excuse—"
"—what a loser—"
"—embarrassing—"
"she's finished—"
"—done for—"
"—completely ruined—"
"—RUINED—"
My palms pressed against my ears as I let out a strangled cry. The cacophony of whispers and shouts felt like they were tearing my skull apart from the inside. I was crumbling, becoming nothing more than an empty shell barely holding together. A firm grip caught my uninjured hand, tugging me forward. I stumbled blindly behind whoever was leading me, my head hanging low and eyes squeezed tight against the assault.
The pulling sensation ceased abruptly and I collided with someone's solid back. My eyes clenched shut even tighter as a fresh wave of agony pulsed through my brain. Gentle hands wrapped around my forearms, carefully prying my hands away from my ears. When I finally dared to crack my eyes open, I found myself staring into familiar amber depths.
