Thrown into a nightmare he never chose, Anthony wakes up in a world where pain breathes through every shadow.

Here, death comes without warning, power is hoarded by monsters in human form, and the weak are erased without ceremony. There are no heroes. No second chances. Only those who adapt — or die screaming.

Anthony is no savior. He carries wounds he won’t name. But in this world that devours, every scream becomes a weapon. Every failure, a mutation.

To survive, he must evolve. Not to be strong — but to stop breaking.

Because in this world, even the broken can become gods.

Anthesis of Sadness is a journey of blood, will, and transformation — where the deepest tragedy may not be death… but the person we become to survive.

I did not reach out my hands to grasp. Not out of restraint, nor out of fear of disturbing the fragile balance of what was unfolding there, but because I knew — with a certainty that had no name, but already held the texture of the body — that touching was not necessary, that what was presenting itself to me could not be received by the skin, nor even intercepted by a gesture, however gentle, however bare it might be, because it did not ask for action, but for space, not for impulse, but for porosity. It was less about opening than about forgetting oneself. Less about reaching than becoming porous. It was not about wanting, but about letting it happen.


Chapter 227 - The Gentle Discordance