The air inside the grand study was heavy, dried parchment, and the cold, damp fragrance of the abyss. The towering shelves were lined with centuries of dark lore, illuminated only by the faint, violet glow of magical orbs embedded in the stone walls.
Hannah dragged herself across the threshold, her small frame trembling under the weight of an exhaustion so profound it felt like a physical anchor pulling her down to the floor. Every breath she took tasted of ash and copper. The stings from the Void-Wasps throbbed along her arms and neck, leaving burning, swollen welts that pulsed with acidic fire, while the steam burns from earlier in the day ached with every movement of her lower limbs.
She was just a human being. A scientist, a woman of equations and logic, whose physical vessel was never meant to endure the tortures of the Void. Yet, clutched against her chest with the last remaining ounce of her willpower, she held The Records of the First Silence.
