It is so easy to lose track of time when one is immersed within a particular task.
Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, and days turn into night; all seamlessly without breaking one's focus.
All that you can do is concentrate with machine-like patience while performing the task in front of you to the very best of your ability.
This is exactly what Abaddon was going through now.
He had no idea how long he had been burning through the army of einherjar for.
Hours...? No, it was probably days.
There was truly no end to the army in sight.
Going against every warrior soul whom had ever rested inside Valhalla was an unthinkable feat to try to pull off.
If Abaddon were still an unbound amalgamations of concepts with limitless energy, he could fight this battle until he was blue in the face.
But with more than 70% of his power residing back home, he was actually starting to feel tired.
sorry I’m late I kept adding stuff to this chapter cause I wanted it to go just right but I hope it was worth it