In its place was absolute silence—silence to the extreme, lightless to the point of suffocation, cold as eternal ice seal.
Giant rock debris floated in the void, those rocks twisted and deformed like celestial limbs, or like ancient giant beast remains scattered in the sea of stars.
They emitted an indescribable ominous aura, each surface covered with bizarre, tangled veins, as if silently recounting forgotten horrors from billions of years ago.
David stood on a giant floating bone; the bone was immense and indistinct in shape, enough to evoke thoughts of some never-recorded ancient Titan existence.
Its bone was hard and peculiarly distorted, adorned with abyss crystal clusters and streams of dark energy, like a foreboding giant beast slumbering at the void's end.
The air was filled with whisper-like murmurs, these sounds like the wails of billions of undead, yet mixed with curses and temptations that corrode divine power and erode spiritual will.
