Not even light, only the abyss of rotting, stench-ridden blood.
So-called "companions" who couldn't even utter a word.
That was the hell where all was absent.
Beyond the fragile threads of a spider's web, not a half-step could be borrowed.
——The true, inescapable deadlock.
Only when "he exerted all his strength and then failed," would a second of time pass.
Beyond that, there was nothing to interact with, nothing to investigate; no force to wield, not even an objective for completion provided.
It simply had him repeat failure.
Just like the suffering Sisyphus once endured.
Annan was convinced that this was indeed a most exquisite trap.
For even here, with limitless physical strength——even falling from great heights, one could immediately revive; but the human spirit will still wear out in the end.
It wasn't tiredness.
It was numbing to despair... directly destroying all the wits of a soul from the spirit up.
