High above the sealed passage, in the abyssal chamber where the throne stood rooted like the heart of a dead deity, silence did not last long before it fractured.
The Corpse Governor remained seated, unmoving at first glance, yet something beneath that stillness had begun to unravel. His corpse
flames flickered erratically, no longer steady, no longer controlled, and fragments of thought clashed violently in his mind, overlapping, breaking apart, reforming into something incomprehensible.
"…no trace… again… impossible… not real… it's not real…"
His voice was low, uneven, words slipping out in broken murmurs. One moment coherent, the next reduced to whispers that carried no meaning at all.
"…watching… always watching… behind it… behind the seal…"
