He didn't know what this place was, nor could he know. The only thing he remembered was that after looking for Qi Yan, he fell into this place. There were no signs, as if he had just walked in naturally. He knew someone wanted to trap him, but didn't want his life. He had roughly guessed who wanted to trap him. This was also the reason he was eager to get out. If things were really as he suspected, then the chaotic situation on this planet had just begun.

Having been silent for so many years, why must someone jump out and stir the calm world into a storm of chaos and slaughter? This was something A Xing, who was content with the status quo, couldn't understand, and naturally, he didn't want to. He simply wanted to live a peaceful, stable life. Of course, if it weren't for the Qi Yan incident, it would have been perfect. However, unfortunately, all complete peace and quiet life changed after Qi Yan appeared, taking with it this planet's peace too.

It was like a pool of clear water suddenly muddied, and everyone only saw a turbid place, not knowing who exactly brought this turmoil. They could only adapt to the changing surroundings, or else they would perish.

No one knew how much time had passed, in a place where there was no sight of day, time seemed non-existent. Fortunately, A Xing was someone with an extraordinary tolerance for solitude, and even in such a place that could drive people insane in less than half an hour, he remained the same. Closing his eyes, he let himself sink into another layer of darkness, where he saw things that were no longer present before him.

The scenes in his mind were vivid and colorful, even without light, only there was no sound, only no figure beside him. But for A Xing, who had traversed the slow, long river of time, such a situation was common, so he felt no discomfort, or rather, he was quite accustomed to such a life. He just hadn't expected to experience his previous life in this place.

Recalling the past was like tearing a scab off a wound, addictive, the faintly present pain making it difficult for one to extricate themselves. A Xing first fell into this difficult-to-extricate action.

At first, he only recalled a little, fearing that he would remember everything all at once and then have nothing to do. But when the wound was torn open a little, the unbearable itchiness and pain made him unable to stop. He painfully tore open the scab, and fresh blood gushed from the freshly healed wound. The pictures in his memory became vivid, so vivid as if they had sound, bringing him moments of joy, yet also feelings of sadness.

The joy was because he could still remember so much. The sadness was because after reminiscing about these things, he still had nothing left to think about.

He was like a child greedy for animation, tirelessly watching scene after scene, and after sifting through his long memories, he closed his eyes and reminisced about those images that brought him joy. But in the end, memories were just memories. When he stopped reminiscing, everything would disappear into nothingness, followed by a long period of loss.

Initially, A Xing could endure this sense of loss, and even enjoyed it, as it meant he was still alive and had feelings. But as time passed, A Xing grew uneasy, questioning whether he truly existed or was merely a figment of someone's imagination. In such a dark environment, it would indeed be most peculiar if his psyche didn't start to fracture. He felt he must be a product of someone's imagination, not a real person, for even the sense of loss after recollection was no longer there. This was a denial of self, a strange emotion.

As he began to feel frightened, the dormant images in his mind suddenly burst open, like a time bomb, exploding with remarkable timing. A Xing then felt dizzy and vertiginous, and the dark space seemed to be filled with colorful, dazzling radiance. The light was so intricate, so dizzying. Before A Xing could see what the brilliance was all about, he was once again plunged into unprecedented darkness, as if nothing had changed at all.

A Xing fell silent, not because he wanted to, but because no one was speaking, and talking to himself was too boring. More importantly, his head hurt terribly, feeling like someone was drilling into his skull with utmost fervor, causing him to utter a low growl that wasn't truly there, as he kept his mouth firmly shut, enduring the pain. No one could understand exactly what kind of pain A Xing was enduring, as there was no one else here, only darkness.

The images that appeared in his mind reflected many people, the living, the dead, and the half-alive, and of course, himself. These images always shared a few common elements, but A Xing, whose head felt like it would explode, didn't even notice these similarities. He only wanted to know when the damn headache would stop.

Then he fell into a coma, a coma of unknown duration.

The whole world was still dark, and A Xing's comatose world was dark too—without pictures, without light, without sound, devoid of all the things of the material world, leaving only lonely consciousness lingering there.

A cold feeling arose, seemingly the first time experiencing such a sensation, making A Xing think the surrounding environment had changed. He awoke from the coma, only to find everything around him was still pitch black, no different than before. He knew the feelings just now were merely an illusion, an illusion brought about by being in the darkness too long.

Raising his head, looking around at the darkness, he didn't know if what he was looking at was above because this place had no sense of direction. He just felt that way was above, and there must be someone watching him from there, so he looked that way, as if he could truly see someone there, then he spoke.

His voice was weak and distant, barely sounding like something from his own mouth. The unfamiliar voice made A Xing even doubt if those words were really from his mouth. The sound didn't travel far before it was swallowed up by the darkness. This bizarre place could even consume sound completely.

"It's been so long, you should have seen enough by now."

It seemed like he was talking to himself, or speaking for someone to hear, or A Xing was just imagining someone watching him in the dark. At least this way, he wouldn't feel completely forgotten.

As he anticipated, there was no response to A Xing's words, the darkness remained, and no sound emerged. He sighed lightly, lowered his head, closed his eyes, and began to sift through the memories in his mind once more. If memory were a book, then at this point, his book was about to be read to pieces.

Being trapped here was like a competition with oneself, without an opponent, yet more terrifying than having one. The greatest adversary always being oneself, fortunately, he still had memories, but only just that, as those memories were beginning to change. A Xing felt unfamiliar with these memories that were so incredibly familiar before—even afraid. He suddenly wondered if someone had altered his mind, just as they'd tampered with Yi Tian.

He could no longer discern whether he was in reality or illusion, so he could only immerse himself in memories. Only there could he believe he truly existed. However, being trapped was a fact, no matter how he tried to escape, he would eventually have to face it.

Yet again, time passed, unknown how long, and just when A Xing thought he might disappear into the void of darkness, he seemed to hear something. It was like a precursor to someone going insane.

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