The Prison of Eternal Light
The world was a sphere of blinding, iridescent white. There was no sun, no moon, and no horizon—only an endless, shimmering expanse of light that felt like a warm blanket and a cold blade all at once. Julian and Clara had been here for what felt like a thousand years, or perhaps a single afternoon. Time in the Prism did not move in a line; it moved in a circle, a perfect, golden loop. They were...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση