Darkness was all Casian could see. Something that comes when the night falls or when we sleep. It was nonetheless heavier, colder, and endless.
Casian had no idea how long he had been walking. There was no sky above, no ground beneath, just the echo of his footsteps in a void that had neither beginning nor end.
His breath fogged in the cold nothingness. Every step forward felt heavier than the last, as if invisible chains clung to his limbs. His eyes scanned the emptiness, seeking—what, he wasn't sure. Something was missing. Something vital.
Someone.
"Where are you..." he whispered, but his voice sounded strange here. Hollow. Fragile. Like it didn't belong.
His heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from a pressure he couldn't shake. A sensation like time was slipping through his fingers—and with it, something precious.
A flicker, maybe. And then he turned.
