Chapter 150

• The night sky stretched above me like an endless abyss, a deep, foreboding shade of indigo with clouds swirling and twisting like living shadows. The air carried a strange stillness, as if the very wind itself held its breath, waiting. It was an unnatural silence, thick and suffocating, as though the world had been placed on pause, caught in the tension of an impending storm.
• The stars flickered like icy pinpricks, casting a pale glow over the landscape. Their cold light did little to dispel the creeping unease settling in my chest. It felt as if all living creatures had vanished into the darkness, bracing for something unseen. The moon, a silver crescent, hung low on the horizon, stretching long, eerie shadows across the ground. I could almost hear the night whispering—terrible secrets carried on the wind, daring those who listened to unravel them.
• I stood before the mirror, adjusting my shirt collar and running a hand through my tousled hair. The reflection staring back at me was familiar, yet different—haunted, as though it belonged to someone else. My fingers lingered at the edge of my jawline, feeling the faint roughness of my stubble, a sign of sleepless nights and a mind burdened by the weight of too many unspoken questions.