Suddenly in that moment, Elias felt an unfamiliar emotion, gathering from the void; they were so intense, howling and fluctuating, carrying both warmth and pain, but they completely disappeared after gathering in his chest, like water poured into a bottomless jug.
The Angel lowered his head, looking at his empty chest through his shirt.
Eerie white bones, beneath the fabric was an indefinite void, a glance penetrating to the bottom; there was no beating heart, only eternal silence.
This was a place covered in gray fog all year round that never dispersed, a river with no beginning and an unknown end flowing quietly, carrying the whispers of the undead from ancient times.
Along the riverbank, the undead formed a long line, dragging their heavy footsteps, slowly advancing towards the ferry crossing. The winding procession stretched endlessly, like a winding trail leading to oblivion.
