After drinking my fill of the water perhaps far more than I should have—I finally allowed myself to rest.
I leaned my back against one of the lifeless trees and let out a long, shaky breath.
For the first time in months, my mind wasn't consumed by thirst. This feeling was undescrible by nature. Thoughts began to return which was previous were water...WATER....wat..,
Slow at first, then became clear as if the water had washed away the fog inside me. With a bit of strength and clarity restored, I began to understand the Abyss in a new way.
When I turned back toward the direction I had come from, the sight chilled me.
The world behind me was split into two forces—light and darkness—locked in a struggle against one another.
From a faraway standpoint it felt like darkness was constantly trying devour light while trying to expand itself.
It felt like the darkness was a living thing, this felt quite errie and gave me chills.
The star light was holding the constant expanding darkness at a bay.
What disturbed me most was the star's stillness.
It didn't move like the sun of my world. Its position hadn't shifted at all, even after hours of resting.
If it had moved, even a little, I might have been dragged back into the darkness—forced to relive the horror that nearly broke me.I never wanted to return to that place again.
Either way the world is tidally locked with its star or the concept here means stable or unmoving in a sense.
Hunger was manageable for now. Thirst was the real tormenter or the pain, at least that had been satisfied.
But eventually as I was exploring ,my instinct won over caution, and I began to eat tree bark—even knowing it could be poisonous.
Cause that was the only thing avaliable in this wasteland to eat.
Afterall survival leaves little room for hesitation. As I don't even fear even death in this state.
To make things easier, I sharpened two sturdy sticks into crude wooden knives.
For that, I had Bear Grylls to thank; the survival tips I learned through the Discovery Channel echoed in my mind, keeping me alive even in this impossible world.
I scraped at the inner bark of a fragile tree, knowing full well that a dead tree was likely toxic. Yet, despite that knowledge, I hesitated only briefly before eating it.
And once I started, I continued until I feel full from it.
The bitterness was overwhelming. My mouth burned, my throat tightened, and the hunger inside me twisted in protest.
Still, I kept eating—driven by desperation more than sense.
Soon after, I collapsed from nausea-the whole world starting moving for me.
My breath grew short.
My limbs refused to move.
Even trying to lift a finger felt like being pierced by thousand needles.
In that pain, a strange, peaceful thought settled over me:
Maybe this was it.
Maybe I could finally die.
The dark void never allowed death. Even when I forced myself to bash my own head, I always recovered and walked again.
But now, poisoned and fading, I felt a sick comfort.
Perhaps this time, the Abyss would let me go.
Yet even as my body failed, I woke again—drooling, covered in my own vomit.
I had survived yet again.
But survival came at a cost; my body felt weaker than ever.
I cleaned myself at the water source, regaining what little strength I could.
The hunger and thirst remained, but they no longer stabbed into my mind. They were simply… there.
With my weakened body, I pressed forward—leaning heavily on my walking stick, gripping my crude knife, and dragging myself deeper into the endless white desert.
The desert itself stretched endlessly, its sights repeating over and over—white sand, lifeless trees, their shapes slightly different each time, yet nothing truly changing.
Even traversing such a terrain I manage to found a tree that was flipping me off somewhat in a sense.
I wandered forward, still naked, without a shred of shame, almost proud that I could walk without clothing in this world.
But as I continued, the desert's coldness began to overwhelm me. The star above—unmoving, unwavering—offered no warmth, only light. And so, I decided to name it Ateria.
If I was destined to exist here for eternity, I might as well begin to organize my thoughts.
Days passed, each mirroring the last. My existence fall into a pattern—digging for water, eating poisonous bark, collapsing from sickness. A cycle of survival and suffering. Yet even then, it was better than the dark void.
At least here, I could hear the wind. I could feel it—proof that something, however faint, still moved within the Abyss.
But I never expected that feeling to turn against me just moments later.
In this relentless cycle, I learned that not even the wind is always a blessing.
A gigantic sandstorm loomed on the horizon, its sheer size unmistakable—yet, strangely, it appeared motionless, a silent warning that it was steadily advancing toward me.
I tried to retreat, looking for any direction to escape. In desperation, I sprinted away, but in the vast emptiness of the Abyss, it hardly made a difference.
For two days, I ran relentlessly, taking only brief moments to rest—eating nothing, drinking nothing.
Somehow, my resistance to hunger and thirst grew guess not all thing that happened were bad?-I take that back.
But my attempt to run was hopeless.
The sandstorm charged at me like an unstoppable force—a massive, swirling wall of sand that swallowed everything as it neared. My vision shrank, the world dissolving into a suffocating haze.
Then, amid the chaos, a new terror formed. In the heart of the storm, tornados appeared—ferocious objects tearing through the sand. Their presence only magnified my fear inside the Abyss.
I tried to run, but the storm caught me easily.
Trees struck me as I stumbled, their branches slashing across my skin.
Stones I hadn't noticed flew through the air—one smashed into my head with full force, knocking me out cold as countless smaller shards pierced my flesh.
Just before consciousness slipped away, the agony worsened. My arm snapped, and fresh gashes erupted across my body.
The sight of my own bone peeking through the torn skin was horrifying—each nerve screaming as it was exposed to the storm's fury, until I finally blacked out.
The sandstorm ravaged my broken body. As I drifted into unconsciousness, it dragged me along its violent winds.
After what felt like days—or at least I assume so—I was finally hurled out of its grip.
I flew through the air like a ragdoll, pain exploding through every inch of me.
If not for the Abyss's accursed, undying effect, I would have died long ago. But I was far too unconscious to complain.
Once again, I was reminded of just how cruel the Abyss truly is.