The silence in the room was not the absence of sound, but a heavy, suffocating presence that seemed to press against the walls. Lin Yue sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers still gripping the glass of water, though he had stopped drinking. His gaze remained fixed on the charcoal drawing.
The woman in the sketch was a void of identity. The smooth, featureless space where a face should have been was more terrifying than any monster he had encountered in the Flow. It wasn't just that she lacked a face; it was that the drawing suggested she had never had one, or that the System had deliberately erased her from existence while leaving her presence intact.
"The name," Lin Yue said, his voice sounding like dry parchment rubbing together. "Which name was I saying?"
