Chapter 142 Taste Of Ruin

• Henry***
• Pain. Cold. Silence.
• The darkness was absolute—an abyss without end, a chilling maw that consumed every shred of light, every trace of self. Cold seeped into my marrow, and silence pressed against my ears with suffocating weight. Yet, through that oppressive void, a voice—jagged with desperation and laced with dread—fought to reach me, trembling on the edge of oblivion, a lifeline fraying but unbroken.