The Heavenly Demon of Terror
Chapter 112: Liberty Awakens
(Henry's POV)
The exhibition had ended.
The gallery was now empty, the once lively atmosphere replaced with a hushed stillness.
I sat alone in my private studio, a single dim lamp illuminating the canvas before me. My hand moved with precision, each brushstroke carving out something raw, something deeper.
This wasn't just a painting.
It was a reflection.
Of my past.
Of my present.
And maybe, of a future I hadn't yet decided.
The scent of paint and aged wood filled the air as I lost myself in the rhythm—until I felt it.
A presence.
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