Yun Lintian tried to sit up, but a sharp pain lanced through his chest. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright, his hands pressing against the cold surface beneath him. His divine sense surged outward—only to rebound as if hitting an invisible wall.
Blocked.
His brows furrowed. This wasn't right. Even in the most secure prisons, his divine sense could extend at least a few meters. Here, it was like his perception had been severed entirely.
A prison designed specifically for him?
No.
Gu Tianyi had said this was the will of "the one who bound him." Someone even the Overseer couldn't defy.
Yun Lintian's jaw tightened.
He needed answers.
Summoning the Seed of Time, he willed time to reverse around him, undoing his injuries. But nothing happened. The Seed pulsed weakly in his Divine Core, its power muted.
Suppressed.
A low chuckle echoed through the darkness.
"Struggling is pointless."
The voice was deep, ancient, carrying the weight of epochs.
