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In the dim corner of the room, the wall clock ticks past three in the morning. He sits alone on the cold floor, pulling his knees tightly against his chest while resting a head heavy with exhaustion. His pitch-black eyes, hollow like empty voids, stare blankly at the bare floor, stripped of every last spark of light. Around him, the night is so still that his heavy breaths echo softly against the walls. Crushing thoughts and a deep numbness wash over him in relentless waves, trapping him in an endless loop of contemplation. Only faint shadows cling to the walls, bathed in the pale light filtering through the window curtain the sole silent witness to a soul wrestling with the quiet, brutal weight of the midnight hours.