Chapter 470 The Crying Void in Your Voice
On that night, Fitran woke up for no reason. The room around him was dark, illuminated only by a faint light from outside the window that cast long shadows on the wall. The atmosphere felt cold, as if the air had absorbed a heavy silence. There was no threat. No movement of glyphs.
Only... a silence that was too heavy, as if one name was trying to push itself out from within her chest. The pressure in her chest made her feel as if the space around her was narrowing, making each breath more difficult. She desperately wanted to scream her name, but the voice was trapped in the labyrinth of her heart, confined in uncertainty and fading hope.
And as she opened her eyes,
Voidling stood beside the bed. Her silhouette appeared faint, as if part of the darkness itself. She did not move. She did not shine.
But she vibrated. The vibration felt like it seeped into the cold air, making Fitran's hair stand on end. It seemed to grasp a deeper pain, reminding Fitran of a loss that had yet to be repaid. The room felt increasingly empty, the aroma of trapped dust biting her nose with discomfort.
As if there was a voice that could not escape...
unless someone was willing to listen, not interpret. The voice whispered softly, like the breeze that slipped through the window cracks, inviting Fitran to remember every promise spoken in the dark. The pressure in her chest grew stronger, making her hands grip the blanket tightly, as if it could save her from the painful reality.
Fitran closed her eyes again.
And from within her, it was heard—not from her ears, but from the place within her soul that was the softest:
"F-Fitran..."
Not a call.