When Han Yu finally woke, the first thing he noticed was the silence.
It was not peaceful silence, but a heavy, unnatural one. His body felt weak, as if he had just carried a boulder up a mountain. Every limb ached faintly, though strangely, there was no sharp pain. The ground beneath Han Yu was cool, and faint traces of ash drifted in the air.
"Ugh!" He groaned softly and pushed himself up.
His head throbbed, and for a moment, his vision swam. It took several breaths before he could focus again.
The oppressive pressure had not vanished. It was still there, faint but ever-present, pressing on his chest like an invisible hand. Yet compared to before, it was now tolerable. He could breathe again, even if each breath came with a slight tremor.
He glanced around. The landscape looked even worse than before. Entire hillsides had collapsed, and the sky above was a dull, bruised gray.
Then he noticed something odd. The sky was brightening.
"What in the..."
