“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
Broken and shattered into a million pieces, Stark found all the memories of his past self forgotten, gone, swallowed by the endless abyss of nothingness.
Stark opened his eyes to a desolate dark fantasy world filled with whisper and murmurs, sorcery and Esotericas, Grimoire and Palimpsest.
Stark moves his feet forward with an intention of knowing about himself, his past self, who he once was.
Was it a the right choice or the wrong one?
Should he have knocked on the looked doors of Resonance or sought for solace in the open arms of forgetfulness?
