A pitch-black darkness, devoid of light, devoid of sound, devoid of everything. Zhu Bufan had no idea how long he had slept, but upon awakening, he found himself in a shroud of darkness. He tried to recall what had happened to him; he could vaguely remember himself losing control of his body, chasing Xiao Ruo into the forest, and then nothing. He was simply suspended in this darkness.
This should have been merely his consciousness, yet Zhu Bufan was horrified to find that he could move, could jump, could see his hands and feet, but he had no idea where he was.
Is this death? Zhu Bufan murmured to himself softly. He couldn't determine his current situation: to say he was in a coma, yet he could clearly move and think; to say he was dead, yet he was undeniably alive. He tried in vain to find an exit from the darkness, walking for what felt like an eternity, but around him, the darkness remained unchanged.
