Darkness.
Endless darkness. No sound, no touch, no warmth; time had lost its meaning here. Ryan Hart didn't know how long he had been in this void.
He couldn't even confirm if the concept of "self" still applied. With no body, no five senses, and no heartbeat to provide a rhythm, his consciousness was like a candle stripped of its lantern, suspended in an endless void, flickering in an unseen wind.
He had tried to shout, but he had no throat to vibrate the air. He had tried to move, but he had no limbs to execute commands. Only thinking—that was the only thing he could still barely manage.
Occasionally, things would float up from the darkness. Like shattered glass, each shard reflected a different scene. Aisha's face screaming in terror, the Bloodline Wizard's cold eyes, and the burning heat that instantly charred his internal organs to ash when a blood-red beam pierced his chest.
