The Silent Forest was aptly named. A thick mist clung to the world and shrouded everything in an impenetrable gray veil. The air was still, almost suffocating, and no sound seemed to penetrate the fog. Without Qi Sense, without one's full senses, it was as though the world that wasn't ahead of you ceased to exist. The echo of one's own breath and the rhythmic pounding of the heart were the sole reminders of life.
Dasha walked, his hand pressed tightly against his temple, fingers digging into his skin as though he could physically tear away the pain. His head throbbed with relentless intensity, flashes of memories—memories that weren't his—battering his mind. His normally calm, emotionless expression was marred by a grimace as he gritted his teeth, trying to fight through the confusion.
Jack the Ripper.
'You think you can take control? Because you believe I am weak?'
"You are not worthy."
