The setting sun was as red as blood, and there were broken walls and ruins everywhere.
Lin Zhao opened his eyes with a snap, and his eyes were filled with breathless gloom.
The air was full of the choking smell of dust, mixed with the smell of rancidity, as if a pair of invisible hands were strangling his throat.
He coughed several times with difficulty, and his lungs hurt so much that it felt like they were on fire.
"Where am I?"
