In the haze of exhaustion, Nash's world faded into darkness.
His body, spent yet vibing with residual energy, sank into a dreamlike void. But this was no ordinary sleep, it was a celestial ode, a bard's epic spun from the threads of legend.
Heavenly beings descended, wreathed in golden light, their voices harmonizing.
They circled him in a grand amphitheater of clouds, strumming lyres that echoed with moans instead of melodies.
"Oh, Nash Blaze, conqueror of flesh and fire!" the lead bard intoned. "Hearken to the tale of the mortal who tamed the tempest of desire! In the arena of ecstasy, you stand unrivaled, your stamina a forge that hammers through the night, unyielding as the mountains of Olympus!"
The beings floated closer, weaving flower crowns from petals that shimmered like stars. The first crown, woven with roses red as blood, settled on his brow.
