"Tch!"
The familiar sound broke Wei Wuyin out of his chaotic thoughts, forcing him to hone onto that voice's origin. He couldn't see, feel, hear, taste, or smell anything as he was, and besides the sensation of steps that seemed both his and not his, there was nothing else. Only his memories and his thoughts seemed to truly exist. All else was illusions.
"Here! Here! Here!" An energetic voice resounded as well, but it too was soft to be heard. Wei Wuyin grew sluggish as he tried to find the origin of the voice, yet he couldn't feel his body. No matter how much he wanted to see, how much he wanted to look around or even turn, he couldn't.
The sensation of isolated despair and chilling dread enveloped his entire mind and every fleeting thought, like cold and wet blankets on a winter day. It was an endless discomfort that refused to slither away from his mind. Wei Wuyin's mind continued to swirl, recalling his death and delved into that vivid memory in continuous repetition.
