PREVIEW

... re end, and where does reality begin?

For someone like me—who spent his life crawling through human slaughterhouses and watching those he loved turn to ash—the line between dream and waking no longer exists.

Both are hell... just at different temperatures.

The first thing I felt was the absence of sharp pain.

No, the pain hadn’t disappeared—it had turned into a cold, heavy numbness flowing through my veins like a slow-acting poison.

I w ...

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