But Alex ignored the chilling whispers. He focused on the task at hand, a singular purpose driving him forward. He envisioned his world, its vibrant landscapes smothered by the curse. He saw the faces of his allies, their strength waning as the curse sapped their power. It fueled his resolve, a steady beacon in the swirling chaos.
Days bled into weeks, measured only by the slow, agonizing process of absorbing the Abyss. Alex's body, battered and reformed countless times, grew numb to the constant pain. Yet, the curse began to recede, a faint, hopeful tremor running through the chaotic energy.
Back in his world, a subtle shift occurred. The oppressive weight that had shrouded the land began to lift. Colors became more vibrant, the air a little sweeter. The curse, though not entirely vanquished, was loosening its grip. A flicker of hope ignited in the hearts of the people, a testament to Alex's unseen struggle within the Abyss.
