abyssal reflections

The silence after the trial was deafening.

Daniel stood in the dimly lit chamber of the Citadel, his breath slow, measured. The weight in his chest had not disappeared, but it had changed—no longer an unbearable burden, but something integrated into him, a part of his existence. The chains of his past had not vanished, but they no longer bound him in place.

Mira watched him carefully from a few paces away, her brows furrowed with something between concern and curiosity.

"You're different," she finally said, her voice steady but quiet.

Daniel exhaled, his fingers flexing as he adjusted to the strange lightness in his movements.

"I feel different," he admitted.

The Citadel around them remained ominously silent, its towering walls marked with unreadable inscriptions that glowed faintly in the torchlight. Whatever magic lingered in this place, it was ancient—far older than anything Daniel had encountered in this world.