Cain didn't truly know how to feel about his failure. He had done his absolute best—pushing himself harder than ever before, enduring a torment unlike anything he had imagined possible—and yet, in the end, he had not reached the light at the end of the path.
The face of the Samsara Lord remained still, his gaze lingering on Cain with calm gravity. Then, finally, the ancient entity spoke.
"Do you know how long you walked?"
Cain blinked in surprise. Of all the questions, he hadn't expected that one. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I… I don't know. That realm had no sound, no light, no sensation of time. I couldn't even perceive my own thoughts. And the second month, it was impossible for me to keep track of time, so I just pushed forward."
All he remembered—clearly and vividly—was the horror. The unspeakable terror of being erased, step by step.
"Five," the Samsara Lord said simply.
"Five years?" Cain asked, his brows knitting. "I could've sworn it felt longer."
