The moment Lin plunged into the abyss's maw, the world shattered.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but crushing darkness, silence so profound it felt like the universe had ended. His body was gone—weightless, senseless—as though the abyss had unmade him molecule by molecule.
Then came the voices.
A thousand whispers surged into his skull at once, indistinguishable yet overwhelming. His pulse hammered. They weren't words so much as intentions—hunger, pain, despair—threaded together into an unbearable storm.
Lin tried to move, to fight, but he had no body to command. Only a thought, drifting.
And then, without warning, the dark bled into light.
He stood.
