An intense headache roared through my skull like a crashing tide.
It wasn't just pain. It was something primal, raw, like nails were scraping my brain from the inside. My fingers dug into my scalp as if trying to tear the agony out.
A strangled groan left my cracked lips.
I was awake.
Barely.
My eyelids twitched and struggled, stitched by exhaustion, as if someone had sewn them shut with iron wire. But eventually, after what felt like eternity, they peeled open with a reluctant flutter.
And the world greeted me with suffering.
My lungs burned. My ribs throbbed. Every fiber of my being screamed like it was dipped in acid. I couldn't even tell where one wound ended and another began. My entire body… it was a battlefield.
No.
It was the wreckage after the war.
My eyes, heavy and bloodshot, darted up slowly—and I froze.
The landscape…
It wasn't just ruined.
It was obliterated.
A field of apocalypse.
