Chapter 475 The Only Dependence
The man in black swiftly yet gently lifted Emma into his arms. She could feel the strength in his solid embrace, a kind of steadfast and secure power that seemed capable of warding off all the darkness and cold in the world. Instinctively, Emma nestled into his chest, as if she had found her final salvation, and the wounds of betrayal in her heart found a moment of solace.
"Who are you?" she asked weakly, her voice filled with confusion and hope.
The man in black didn't answer right away. Instead, he held her tighter, as if trying to shield her from the world. The familiar scent and warmth gave Emma a sense of comfort amidst her despair.
She closed her eyes, exhausted, and whispered, "George."
That name seemed to trigger some mysterious force. The surrounding darkness receded like a tide, and a gentle light pierced through the gloom, enveloping them. The man in black paused slightly, as if deeply moved by her call, his body trembling almost imperceptibly.
When Emma opened her eyes again, the man in black had removed his mask. The familiar yet unfamiliar face before her was Michael!
"Michael, it's you?" Emma looked at him in disbelief, her eyes filled with complex emotions. "Why you?"
Michael's gaze was deep and tender, carrying a mix of emotions.
"Because I won't let you face danger alone." His voice was low and gentle, with an undeniable firmness, as if conveying a long-standing promise.
Emma felt a wave of dizziness as memories surged back. Those scattered images, those once-forgotten details, suddenly became clear.
Naturally, it was Michael, her lover and Seraphine's father, who came to save her.
Emma could feel the strength in his embrace, a power that could dispel all darkness. At that moment, she finally understood that some people would always appear in your darkest times, like a ray of light in the darkness.
With Michael by her side, Emma felt a sense of security. Somehow, she felt herself floating in a deep, hazy fog.
But this time, the fog wasn't dangerous; it had a dreamy beauty.
Her consciousness wavered between clarity and haze. She vaguely heard a gentle yet powerful male voice from afar, like a distant dream.
"You are safe," the voice said softly and firmly, like a promise.
She tried desperately to open her eyes but found herself completely immobile, her body bound by an invisible force.
The surrounding light changed slowly and mesmerizingly, from a harsh, cold white to a soft, reassuring blue-green. This subtle shift in color seemed to have a magical power, giving Emma a strange sense of security she had never experienced before.
Armando carefully monitored every subtle change in Emma's brainwaves, like a meticulous artist obsessed with precision. Every tiny fluctuation held significant meaning in his eyes.
"Her brainwave frequency is steadily decreasing," he whispered to Michael. "She's gradually entering a compliant state."
Michael stood by the bedside, his long, pale fingers gently and reverently holding Emma's cold hand. This touch seemed to have an indescribable magic, a mesmerizing sense of security slowly enveloping her.
"Emma," Michael's voice was gentle yet irresistible, "all the pain you've endured was caused by George. Under my protection, you'll heal. All your wounds will disappear with me."
Emma's consciousness began to experience strange, dizzying waves. She seemed to see fragmented, blurry images: past fears, pain, and despair, those deep scars etched in her soul. But these terrifying images were being soothed by a warm force, as if an invisible hand was gently smoothing out the wrinkles in her heart.
Armando was meticulously adjusting the equipment. This special hypnosis induction device was the culmination of his life's research, embodying his deepest understanding of human consciousness. The precise sound waves and light waves acted like the most precise surgical tools, silently working on Emma's brain, subtly altering the deepest structures of her consciousness.
"Muscle tension is continuously decreasing," Armando recorded softly. "Skin conductance shows significant signs of relaxation."
Michael leaned down slowly, his gentle breath lightly brushing Emma's pale cheek. "Only I can understand you. Only I can truly save you."
At that moment, Emma's consciousness cleared. All defenses and resistance were slowly dismantled and dissolved by an unseen, intangible force.
The sunlight outside the window flowed quietly, silently witnessing this smoke-free, chilling psychological transformation. Emma's breathing became more stable, her subconscious being quietly woven into the image Michael and Armando had meticulously designed.
A day later, Emma slowly opened her eyes, her vision gradually clearing. The first thing she saw was a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Michael was sitting quietly by the bed, his deep eyes gazing at her tenderly, as if wrapping her entire world in his warm gaze.
"You're awake," his voice was gentle, carrying a reassuring strength that could calm all inner turmoil.
Emma felt weak, but her heart was strangely filled with a near-blind dependence on Michael.
"Michael, did you save me?" she asked weakly.
Michael gently held her cold hand, the warmth of his touch instantly soothing all her pain. His gaze was so gentle it made her heart tremble. "As long as you need me, I'll always be here. Don't worry, with me by your side, nothing will happen to you. No one can take you away from me again."
"Michael, you're so good to me. I'm so glad I have you."
Emma nestled in Michael's arms for a long time, never mentioning George.
In her hazy memory, it seemed she had already accepted that George had completely abandoned her. For the George she once loved deeply, she only felt deep disappointment and a numb sadness. Those once cherished memories now felt empty and insignificant to her.
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