The air thickened—not with fog, nor smoke, but with something primordial. Something older than breath. It clung to my skin like damp gauze, soaked in dread. Each inhalation scraped against my ribs like fingernails on bone. The atmosphere was wrong—indecently silent—as if sound itself had been warned away.
Time congealed.
It no longer passed but pulsed—slow and stuttering—like a heart unsure whether to keep beating. Even light had retreated, falling around me in anaemic rivulets that failed to touch the void ahead.
That chasm—
It did not yawn.
It watched.
No shape. No depth. No colour—only the collapse of all known things. This was not darkness. This was unbeing. It devoured not just vision, but logic. And I felt it peer back. Not with... Continue reading "Cold air pool atpl" »