Caine sat atop the thick, black waters of the void sea, silent and unmoving.
His body had withered, his muscles vanished, and his skin clung tightly to his bones. The intricate outlines of his skeletal frame were exposed, a stark testament to his ordeal.
Dried blood coated his body, intersected by countless scars and wounds, from which radiant silver blood still seeped, each drop a flicker of vitality.
The beating of his heart was slow and faint, a whisper of life echoing the weakness of the blood qi that struggled through his ruptured veins.
SHIIIIH!
Caine's form began to dissolve into ashes.
These ashes, silver in hue, drifted down to the waters below, but they refused to sink, hovering on the surface like stubborn remnants of his will.
From the void above, blessings continued to fall, each flake of light akin to a divine acknowledgment of his struggle.
