Cyn regained consciousness, only to find himself swallowed by pitch-black darkness—a place utterly unlike the space he had been in before.
For a moment, he thought he had returned to that Space, that he would see his reflection cast upon a glass-like surface beneath twin skies.
But then, light was cast upon him.
A lamp illuminated the entire place—yet its light was strange, fractured, riddled with countless fissures.
Cyn tried to move, but the ground felt like mire.
When he looked toward the crimson glow pouring down from the distant source above him, he froze.
It was not a lamp.
It was a moon.
A bloody moon.
Not just any blood moon—faint rays leaked from it, rays unlike the warmth of sunlight. They were chaotic, as though they wished to tear him apart. They had no pattern, no order—wild, uncontrolled. And yet, they fed him energy, elevating his vitality, filling him with strength.
What truly shocked him, however, was the sound echoing across the horizon.
