With the solemn simulacrum emerging,
the atmosphere around abruptly changed—using a comic book-like depiction, Annan was now left with only white lines. Everything around him turned into a murky gray-black.
Resentment. Fear. Despair.
Curses. Wailing. Crying.
In the moment when the rapidly expanding gray-black domain engulfed him, a multitude of noisy whispers suddenly surfaced in Annan's ears. It was as if those complex emotions were all reflected in Annan's heart.
But—
Couldn't hear. Couldn't hear at all.
Because there were too many voices, too mixed up... Every voice was trying its hardest to express something; it made it so Annan couldn't hear anything.
The next moment, Annan suddenly woke up.
The surrounding gray-black world silently shattered.
But it wasn't shattered by Annan's power... instead, it was actively terminated.
Annan then realized that, unbeknownst to him, his body was covered in deep, bone-exposing wounds.
