Chapter 175: Between Obviousness and Oblivion
I left the stele.
Not with a heroic gesture. Not with strength or solemnity. Just... I detached myself. Like one gently removes a hand that has rested too long on a lukewarm ember. Like waking from a dream without meaning to, still entangled in its colors, its burn, its tenderness.
I had no more questions at that moment.
No more screams.
No more strength.
Only that slow, instinctive, almost unconscious movement. A withdrawal. A gentle flight. A resignation. I left the stele... but it did not leave me.
It was still vibrating within me.
Not like a memory. Not like those images one sees again when closing the eyes, blurry, distant, harmless.
No.
It vibrated like thermal residue.
An invisible, yet burning imprint.