Six months ago, his heart rate would often enter a state of sporadic imbalance; it was from that time that he lost the concept of time.
Perhaps his body was still alive, with only a faint presence of consciousness, but his spirit had been worn down by this lengthy ordeal.
Finally, after countless endless nights, the footsteps on the wasteland halted.
It was the only pause in two years, aside from regular rest. Underneath his long hair, his eyes as dark as the night revealed a hint of confusion.
Why am I walking forward?
"Who... am I?"
He instinctively rummaged through his clothes, hoping to find something that could prove his identity, but all his clothes were coordinated camouflage uniforms; there was nothing to prove who he was.
Until a small pebble fell to the ground, attracting his attention with the energy inside it.
Su Huan vaguely felt that the answer to his identity might lie here.
