167 Years After Robin Entered the Mid Belt – Mid-Sector 101
Drip... drop... drip...
From his torn fingertips, blood trickled down—not in mere drops, but in mournful streams, as if the very soul of the body was weeping through its wounds.
The earth, thirsty and cursed, drank it in greedily... only to spit it back out like a venom it could not digest.
"Huuu... huuuh..."
His breaths came like thunder—ragged, forced, hollow.
Through bloodied eyes, half-closed and inflamed from burst vessels, he gasped for air like a man drowning in a sea of agony.
He pulled at the air with desperation, as if trying to inhale the sky itself—but his lungs were traitors. They gave him nothing.
He tilted his head ever so slightly... and saw it.
Or rather, what was left of it.
What once may have been a body now lay shattered beside him. Unrecognizable. Horrific.
The skull had split open and its contents had mixed with dirt and gravel.
