The air inside the chamber was still, almost suffocating, as though the walls themselves carried the residue of centuries of corruption. For three endless days, he had been chained there—his silver hair matted against his back, his long figure pressed down by unseen weight, and his once-radiant emerald eyes dulled into a sickly crimson haze.
The sound of metal cracking echoed softly.
Clink.
The ancient chains that had bound him trembled, then shattered, links scattering across the stone floor like raindrops. For the first time in years, he could move freely. The man raised his head slowly, strands of silver hair falling over his face. His breathing steadied, though his chest still carried the memory of pain.
A low sigh escaped his lips. It wasn't simply relief. It was something more profound—a return.
