Kazikato approached a coffin in the endless wasteland. His connection led him here, and as a user of the shadow affinity.
He was far more attuned to this world, sensing things that most others would not feel. Slowly he flew towards the coffin.
It was nothing but crude, black wood, standing upright in this endless desert. One that lacked any sort of ornamental decorations, no carvings, just soulless, black wood.
Kazikato used magic to float above the sand all this time, for he knew what each individual grain was. A life long-lost in the annals of time, their being still remained in the land of shadows, as one or many grains of sand. A memory unlike any other.
He felt that he would be disrespecting them if he stepped on the sand, although he regretted not informing everyone else. It couldn't be helped, he himself had figured out after they had left.
None of them answered the communicator, which made his guilty conscience worse.
[We shouldn't exist.]
