Hours passed, yet Dexter remained in bed, his body unwilling to surrender to sleep. He tried to think, to reach for that smooth, gentle voice—but it was gone. No matter how many times he tried to summon it, silence answered. Was he not losing his mind after all?
It made him believe Pry's words even more.
After all, the system had warned that his penalty for failing to kill his mother would be a "soul passage." Now that he thought about it, was this what it truly meant? Had the system brought him to a new reality just to erase him quietly?
But how had he even survived the torment his mother inflicted? Both arms severed, a blade through his heart—who survives that?
His mind kept him awake through the night. A wave of relief washed over him, yet a part of him still refused to believe any of it.
