When Damascus slowly regained consciousness, he expected to find himself in hell.
He thought he would wake surrounded by towering flames and rivers of boiling lava, burning alongside the countless sinful souls condemned to suffer for eternity. He imagined the God of Hell watching from above, laughing, or perhaps smiling in amusement, as he endured his punishment.
After all, that was the fate he believed awaited someone like him.
Instead of unbearable heat, however, the first thing Damascus felt was a gentle coldness resting against his forehead.
It was soft, calm and comforting.
The unfamiliar sensation pulled him out of the darkness, causing his brows to knit together.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open.
His vision was still clouded, making everything before him appear as nothing m
