When Sam opened his eyes, the soft light filtering through the curtains told him it was morning.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the time on his phone. It was just past 9 a.m.
"…Twelve hours?" he muttered to himself, blinking in disbelief.
Apparently, his body had needed more rest than he thought.
Given the fight against the [Black Sun], he wasn't surprised, but still, it was rare for him to sleep that long.
'My body must've been seriously drained,' Sam thought as he stood up, stretching with a groan.
He moved into the small kitchen area of his hotel room and started preparing a simple breakfast.
Eggs. Toast. Nothing fancy.
The life of a Primordial wasn't easy.
Sure, it came with strength, more than most people could ever dream of, but it also came with pressure.
The world seemed to want him dead more than it wanted anything else, and the number of enemies he had to face as well as their strength kept climbing with every layer he conquered.
