With the realization settling deep within me—I had entered the Abyss—a chill ran down my spine.
For a moment, I forgot the unbearable thirst clawing at my throat.
If this place was truly the Abyss, then the torment I was enduring made sense. And yet, something didn't quite add up.
I had lived a good life—or at least an incomplete one. I had died too early to have committed any grave sin worthy of eternal punishment. So why was I here?
I couldn't make a sense of my situation, so all I did was panic and move around this dark place with no end in sight.
After the realization had fully sunk in, another problem emerged: the ever-growing hunger and thirst that I could barely withstand. Every step felt painfully deliberate—even though I knew it was all an illusion, their presence in my mind spawned a host of unsettling sensations.
Desperate for relief, I tried to scratch myself. While I couldn't see my own form in the pitch-black void, I could feel the sting of my skin tearing under the strain of my own nails.
In a further act of futility, I attempted to dig into the hard ground, hoping to uncover even a hint of moisture. The earth was unyielding—there was no water to be found. Frustration took over, and in sheer exasperation, I began to run, hoping to outrun the torment of these relentless sensations.
Running around hopelessly did nothing; the place remained entirely dark, unchanged and endless.
By the 12th day, I could no longer walk on two legs. Weak and exhausted, I crawled forward, clinging to the faint hope that I might eventually arrive *somewhere* in this void.
But it was futile. On the 14th day, I finally gave up. Instead of forcing myself forward, I curled up into a ball, surrendering to the sheer weight of it all.
Yet, in an endless place like this—with nothing to do, no way out, and the constant torment of hunger and thirst—it was impossible to remain still for long.
One thing was strange. After half a month of suffering, I expected hallucinations, madness, *something*. But nothing came. No whispers in the dark, no illusions.
Shouldn't being trapped like this drive someone insane in just a few days? But in the Abyss, it seemed that even insanity refused to take hold of me.
I kept moving forward, though by now, even crying felt impossible. The pain was unbearable.
By the 18th day, I found myself comparing my suffering to those still alive—playing a twisted game, ranking the pain of others while barely having the strength to crawl. My mind had long since faded into exhaustion, leaving me only with the ability to drag myself forward by mere inches or, on rare occasions, sprint like a madman.
Time had no meaning in this place. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The torment never ceased, and I finally realized—this was my future. **Endless suffering. Eternal wandering.** A fate sealed within the Abyss.
Many times, I cursed the heavens for this punishment. I hadn't been given a life worth living, and even in death, I wasn't granted peace. My grief only deepened, yet I kept moving forward.
Then, after what I counted as three months, something changed.
A light.
In the distance, a glow broke through the suffocating darkness, radiating hope in a place that had none.
Without thinking, I forgot my suffering and sprinted toward it at full speed.