In the land of black ash, the essence of dead worlds, entire civilizations ground to nothing but dust. Eons upon eons of tales of life, living memories that existed as shadows to roam the forgotten lands of black ash, was a hollow space.
Unlike any other, lacking darkness, lacking light, presence, life, but filled with shadows. Tales of so many great heroes and villains, epics and legends, mythic and divines were being told as a hymn.
The shadows of such, were all condensed, mixed in with each other in a seamless harmony. A material that couldn't be harmed even by the most powerful strike a man, or a monster could unleash, flowed like a river.
An endless sea of shadows, each hollow, yet telling their own story, filled this strange space, revolving around a singular existence. They were his hair, the clothes that covered his body, the very essence of his being.
