Night here wasn't a real night. It was something deeper, heavier, like the darkness had weight, and it pressed down on you until you forgot what light looked like.
When the torches outside were finally put out, the world didn't just dim; it disappeared. Everything slipped into this pitch-black void where even your own hands felt like strangers. Aether blinked once, twice, but it didn't matter. His eyes could have been wide open or shut tight, and the world looked exactly the same either way.
It wasn't just the absence of light. It was the kind of darkness that swallowed sound too, as if the air itself thickened. Every breath he took felt muffled, like he was inhaling something stale and velvety. He couldn't even see the outline of the bars, usually faintly visible when the torches flickered through the night. Now? Nothing. Not a silhouette. Not a shimmer. Just… void.
He lifted his hand in front of his face.
He saw nothing.
Not even the faintest suggestion of motion.
