Chapter 97 Ashes

Click, click.

The sound of a fire sickle striking flint.

Fireless ashes burned once more, and Winters awoke from his coma.

His body throbbed with a heavy dull pain, he struggled to open his eyes but his vision was nothing but a blur.

Blurred vision, blurred consciousness, he smelled a whiff of a pleasant milky fragrance.

Winters' nostrils flared, and in his foggy state he thought, "Could heaven truly exist? And it smells like milk?"

His sight gradually returned, and a strange object came into clear view: it was a wheel made of dozens of fine spokes, covered with a cloth that faintly let light through.

Truly bizarre.

Soon, Winters' cognitive ability gradually returned, and he began to think.

He concluded that this place was not heaven—unless God also lived in tents!

What seemed to be a wheel was clearly the dome of a tent, he was lying inside a felt tent.

Winters instantly became alert, he moved his body, trying to observe his surroundings.