It felt like he was swimming in a vast ocean, completely submerged beneath the surface.
'What am I even here for?'
The darkness was endless. And yet, somewhere above, light spilled through.
"...."
Vanitas slowly opened his eyes.
Before him, several fragments hovered like moments suspended in time.
Then, all at once, reality pulled him in.
And he lived a life, remembering the one he'd been trapped in for three long months. The emptiness it left behind lingered, slowly swallowing his soul.
There was a sense of automation in everything he did. The days blurred together, driven by a need to numb it all.
He drowned himself in alcohol, forgetting what he was here for, forgetting what any of this meant.
No, he had already forgotten where he even was.
But the only thing he knew was...
"Hell."
He was living in hell.
