Echoing in my ears were endless shouts, flames softly burned with a blazing golden hue, casting light through the window, turning the originally cramped room a golden red, as if it were a scene from the end of days.
It was as if some catastrophic disaster had occurred, like a nightmare that jolts you awake yet prevents your eyes from opening, with sharp singing voices twirling in the dark, resembling the mournful wails of a succubus, while memories that felt both familiar and foreign circled in my mind—as if I had seen such a scene at some time before.
But it seemed that I had not.
Fang Hong struggled to open his eyes, and the scorching breath hit him, causing stars to burst before his eyes. Then he saw a pair of eyes—so special, pale grey, somewhat familiar.
