After the brutal clash with the Blood Demons, Liam found himself within the quiet expanse of the mind realm—Aesmirius' domain—where the aftermath of battle faded into tranquility. The golden fields and stretches of emerald greenery that once served as the scene of destruction had been restored once more, just as they always were after every illusionary confrontation. The skies above shimmered with a cosmic hue, endless and radiant, painting a serene backdrop that contrasted sharply with the exhaustion weighing down his body.
Liam lay flat on the soft earth, his face pressed against the cool soil while his bruised and torn back faced the celestial glow overhead. His breathing was steady yet faint, each exhale carrying the remnants of fatigue. He appeared almost asleep, though his mind remained dimly aware of where he was. The final moments of that last battle had drained him far more than he anticipated—far more than his meticulous calculations had accounted for.
