'It's empty again,' Max thought. 'All that infernal energy I consumed… gone?'
Not used.
Not sealed.
Just gone.
And the tattoo—once filled to the brim—was now acting like it had never been fed.
A heavy, uneasy silence gripped Max's heart.
This wasn't just unusual—it was impossible.
Unless…
'Is this because we're already deep inside the 1,500-mile forbidden zone…?' Max's face darkened at the thought.
He turned to Harry.
"How deep are we right now?" he asked casually, but his tone held weight.
Harry glanced at the terrain, then looked back at him. "Not far," he replied. "We just crossed the threshold. Maybe a few miles at best. Why?"
Max went silent, thinking. The tattoo was reacting far too violently. The depth of infernal energy in the air here—it was thick, almost choking, as though they were breathing fumes from hell itself.
After a moment, Max muttered, almost to himself, "Then that's strange… because it feels like we're already five to six hundred miles deep."
