Chapter 3027: The Two Thousand Two Hundred and Ninety-Sixth Echo: A Question Mark in the Void

The being of shadow stilled, its form a vortex of silent disbelief.

It had expected fear, or anger—a reflection of its own destructive impulse.

This quiet advance, this heart-deep sorrow offered as a gift, was a language it did not understand.

For the first time in its existence, the shadow felt a flicker of something other than the cold, sharp-edged certainty of its own being.

It was a feeling akin to curiosity, a question mark unfurling in the void where its heart should have been.