Chapter 77: Bound in Darkness

At another place, at the same time: There was blood—endless, unrelenting—a river flowing beneath him. And then, there was pain, a sea of it in which he drifted endlessly, helplessly. Would it never end? The sharp stings of a thousand cuts, the burn of a thousand flames, and the sound of laughter—cruel, taunting—promised an eternity of torment. He had once been powerful, formidable, but now that strength, that essence, had been drained from him. It was impossible to believe how utterly broken he had become. He sent out desperate mental calls into the night, pleading for aid from his kind. Silence met him in return. Where were they? His kin, his brothers, his allies? Why would they not come for him? Each moment stretched into an eternity of agony, but no help arrived. Had they abandoned him? Was this their doing? The thought clawed at him, but as the pain deepened, his mind began to blur, memories slipping away like grains of sand. He recalled betrayal, the familiar face of a traitor,