Chapter 4 · free to read
Before anyone could teach him to use the nothing, somebody had to measure it.
Four paces. Bored, unbothered, thinking about nothing in particular. Four paces.
Calm shrinks it. Fear feeds it. It was not a weapon yet. It was a pulse he had to learn to hold his breath against.
He had walked past the infirmary door. That was all. He had walked past it.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.